Olympian
by gameboy33349
Summary: Would you believe it if you had the chance to date your favorite athlete? AU Cargan with a big dash of Kames. Definitely M for a reason!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: New story time! No, this doesn't mean I'll forget about anything else. Updates still go out for other things, so long as I'm still able to read the stories on my alert.

Anyways, so psyched to get this one started. The ideas are really flowing for this one, and I'm pumped to say the least. No chapter names though, I'm not that good for that part. Oh, and this is 3rd person if you couldn't already see that. Hell with it, no more explaining, I'm starting it. This is "Olympian". Enjoy!

Oh wait, a warning- this is M for a reason. I didn't hold back like I have been for Dreamscape.

"stuff" = speech

_stuff _= emphasis

'_stuff'_ = thoughts (note the single quotes)

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><p>Chapter I<p>

"Carlos! Dinner!" James yelled from the kitchen. He looked out from the small kitchen in their two-person apartment to see Carlos sitting inches from the medium sized television screen. Being college students made sure that the living arrangements weren't too beautiful, but James' mom being rich and all meant that their apartment wasn't bottom dollar or anything.

"Just a minute!" came the reply from the Latino. "The gymnastics parts are my favorite, you know that!"

James chuckled at that statement. "You just love seeing the hot guys with nice packages in tight spandex," he smirked, earning a quick shrug from the tan boy.

"You know you do too. Now shush, my favorite gymnast is next!"

"Your dinner is gonna get cold at this rate, and your eyes are going to really fucking hurt from sitting so close to the TV…"

"SHHHHH!"

The tall boy merely sighed, picking up his plate of dinosaur chicken and strolling over to the couch, plopping down in a spot where he could attempt to see past his friend's wide back. On the screen was a brunette boy, hair spiked up from obviously way too much gel. He was wearing a regular spandex jumpsuit like all the other athletes, and James didn't really notice anything too remarkable about him. Other than the hot blonde in the business suit that he was talking to.

"Damn, blondie next to him is fucking fiiiine…"

"Shut the hell up! Logan is about to start!" Carlos yelled excitedly, scooting even closer to the bright screen. Logan Mitchell was the only reason Carlos was still watching the Olympics this year. James had turned it on the day before to see what events were on, and as soon as Carlos saw the pale, spiky-haired brunette on screen he fell in love. Ever since that moment Carlos plastered himself to the screen whenever Logan came on, adoring the beautifully defined muscle that decorated the boy's toned body.

They both watched as Logan nodded to the tall blonde, giving a half-smile before turning and walking over toward the High Bar. He looked over to the judges, one of whom nodded their head. Tensing his body, the pale boy jumped and grabbed onto the metal beam above his head, slowly but surely beginning to swing around the bar. Carlos watched on, completely mesmerized by the beautiful show that the boy was putting on, James still trying to see around him as he shifted all over the floor. Suddenly, after building up a good amount of speed, the gymnast let go of the bar, flinging himself into the air and performing a complex combination of flips and spins before grabbing onto the bar once again.

"Did you see that?" Carlos bubbled, bouncing up and down as he continued to watch the routine.

"No, I didn't, you're in th-"

"SHHHH! He's still going!" James rolled his eyes. The Latino was clearly obsessed with the pale boy on the TV, so he just gave up trying to communicate and strained his neck to get a view of the screen. Logan was about to dismount from the bar, revolving rapidly once more before catapulting himself high up and doing a series of corkscrew twists before landing on two feet on the mat below

"_YES!_ HE STUCK IT!" Carlos cheered loudly, startling James enough to cause the plate of food in his lap to be sent onto the floor. The Latino continued to watch, seeing the boy on screen thrust his fist into the air, watching his muscular arms flex as they came back down to his sides, completely ignoring the glare James was sending him.

"_Carlos!"_ The tan boy's head snapped to the side to see an angry brunette with yellowish grease stains on his once bleach white wife beater and dark blue jeans.

"Oops, sorry Jamie. But did you see that? He totally stuck the landing!" The tan boy's joy was boiling over, his wide smile infectious. James sighed, placing a hand to his forehead. It was hard to get mad at Carlos for too long, and seeing him so happy made James smirk back. "And did you see those arms? They're fucking _huge!"_ The Latino waved a hand over his own medium sized bicep, making motions to show how big the gymnast's were comparatively. "_Oh my God,_ why does the hottest fucking guy _ever_ have to be so out of my league?"

"Carlos, come on now, he's done and you need to eat your damn dinner."

"I can eat something later, I want to see his scores." James frowned. Carlos had done the same thing the night before, but that time he had forgotten to eat before going to bed because he was up so late to see Logan's final performance, making James miserable in the morning when he woke up to Carlos whining about how hungry he was. The tall boy sighed loudly, standing up to pick up the pieces of chicken on the carpet and placing them on his plate. He quickly strode over to their little kitchen, his plate landing in the sink that was already overflowing with the dirty dishes that he kept telling himself to do.

Hazel eyes turned back to the television, seeing Logan once again sitting with the hot blonde in the suit.

'_I'd like to get myself some of that… Carlos can have the stupid gymnast, I want a tall glass of sexy blond with a couple green eyes on the side._'

As soon as James turned back to the dishes another loud cheer ripped through the air of the apartment when Carlos saw the results of the final performer in the final round of Olympic High Bar. James' eyebrows rose upon realizing what that Latino had said.

"Perfect score!" The brunette stared back to the TV, eyes wide. He took in the scores plastered across the bottom; it was a perfect. James was stunned, although Carlos _had _been in the way of his view of the screen for almost the entire routine. But it still astounded him that such a young guy could win gold in an Olympic event. Usually the gold medal winners were somewhere in their mid to late twenties, but Logan Mitchell was their age: 20.

Carlos was dancing around the room, singing some love song to himself and twirling to the beat as he enjoyed the thoughts of his dream life next to Logan Mitchell. His fantasies basically worked out that he would meet Logan in some sort of strange situation which ended up with them falling in love, getting married, and living together in love for the rest of their lives. Logan would be a successful Olympic gymnast for a few more years, and Carlos would finish his degree in Video Game Design, and then… well, nothing specific except that they would live happily ever after. The end. The only problem was that they were only fantasies, probably never destined to come true in his lifetime; maybe in the lifetime of some alternate universe Carlos like in his comic books, but not in the life of the Carlos of this dimension.

Two quick snaps in front of his face brought the tan boy to a halt, opening his eyes to see James staring at him expectantly, a plate of dinosaur chicken in hand. "Eat," he commanded. The Latino puffed out his cheeks and pouted, trying to get the tall boy off his case, but James wouldn't budge. Groaning, he grabbed the plate from his friend's hands before shuffling over to sit down in front of the television again to watch the giving out of the medals.

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><p>The next morning, Carlos awoke to the shrill beeping of his alarm clock.<p>

'_Ugh… morning classes freaking blow,'_ he thought drowsily, hitting the button on top of the device and rolling out of bed. Smacking his lips a couple times and yawning while walking to the bathroom, the tan boy glared at the closed door to James' door enviously. '_Stupid music major and his stupid not-having-to-ever-wake-up-early-ness. And his stupid never-taking-summer-classes-ness.'_

The Latino entered the apartment's single bathroom, starting the shower before turning to inspect himself in the mirror. His hair was still black, his eyes were still brown, and his skin was still a beautiful golden tan color. He was awake despite how disgustingly early it was (for him, 9AM was early), but he had gotten a great night's sleep, dreams filled with visions of Logan Mitchell sharing his somewhat small bed and peppering him with deep, passionate kisses. It was then that Carlos noticed his almost painfully hard morning wood, a blush spreading quickly across his cheeks even though nobody was there to notice.

Peeling off his black and orange dotted pajama pants, Carlos quickly slipped into the shower stall, setting himself down on the stone bench that was set into the shower wall across from the showerhead. He grabbed a hold of his length, slowly stroking up and down as his eyelids fluttered closed and an image of his favorite gymnast came into view. He continued to rub his now fully hard cock to the thought of Logan Mitchell slowly stripping just for him, a soft moan emanating from his mouth as he felt the warm spray from the shower mix with the sweat that was forming on his skin.

"Ah… Logaaaaan," he moaned softly into the steamy air, imagining a beautiful voice whispering right back into his ear, speeding up his motions. His thumb slid across the slit, smearing the precum that was collecting there across the head of his dick.

'_This is all for you, my love,_" floated through his brain in the deep yet adorable imaginary voice of Logan Mitchell. Carlos' breathing became rapid and ragged, his climax quickly approaching. A familiar heat was pooling in his groin, and he knew that he couldn't hold on much longer. _'Cum for me Carlos,'_ the voice whispered, sending him over the edge.

"Fuck, Logaaaan," Carlos moaned loudly as his orgasm overtook his body, an overwhelming feeling of pleasure washing over him and a couple of laces of white spurting onto his lightly defined abs before dying down to a small bit just spilling over his hand. The Latino looked down at his mess, blushing a bit before standing to clean himself off. After a few more minutes of vigorous cleaning and hair washing, the tan boy turned the shower off, stepping out into the much warmer air of the bathroom. He cleared off the mirror, taking note of his very red features and splashing cold water over his face to clear the blush away.

Wrapping his towel around his waist and grabbing his pajamas, Carlos quickly traveled the short distance from the bathroom back to his bedroom to get dressed and ready for the boring school day coming up. But not before stopping to turn on the TV to see when Logan would be on again.

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><p>AN: Well then. You got your fill of someone doing something inappropriate for now. No more for a long time.

…J/K. I'll write more soon (seeing as Dreamscape still needs its big moment too). I actually had a lot of fun with this, and although I'm sure you all did too, I'm pretty sure my reason for enjoying this is the writing part, not the reading of people doing things that would scar young children.

I love the idea of having both a smart-ish Carlos and having the boys be older (luckily, the guys IRL are all like young 20s age so their physical features don't change at all :D). It adds a little more depth to their characters in my not-so-humble opinion.

Anyways, this was shorter than I imagined it turning out being for the first chapter, and like a fifth of it is just Carlos doing personal stuff. Ah well. Please review, and the second chapter should be up shortly (shortly being anywhere from 1 day to 1 week). Thanks for reading, and see you next upload!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Time for chapter 2! Thanks to _irishoreo, BTRlover17, hahippy, SimplyAnonymous101, fuzzybuzz21, Sum1cooler, XxgawjussemokidxX, abcnaley, Dragon99754, Mazie Lyne, Lewkis, squoctobird, MilitaryGirl101, _and _Denahi _for the reviews, favorites, and alerts. They mean a lot (and I'm not just saying that, they really do).

In other news, I realized that I have a really hard time telling which of the BTR guys is singing at some points during their songs. Prime example: 'Nothing Really Matters'; At the end of the song where they're all singing really high, I can't tell Logan and Kendall apart. James is really close as well but at least sort of distinct, and Carlos is clear. But Logan and Kendall are impossible for my ears to separate. Now I feel sufficiently stupid.

Anyways. Yeah. Chapter 2. Going on now.

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><p>Chapter II<p>

"I know you know, I've got your heart pumpin'. I know you know, we know we've got somethin'," Carlos sang happily along with Cymphonique, his earbuds blaring the music into his ears as he twirled his way down the sidewalk. The people walking by would occasionally look at him weirdly, but most knew him as the Dancing Boy for how he transported himself. He never took the bus, never carpooled, never just walked. The Latino always danced his way down the street and into the lecture hall in the morning, hearing his friends laugh as he spun his way down the aisle and into his seat.

The tan boy kept his headphones in his ears, beginning to pull things from his backpack when the left earphone popped out with a quick tug from the person in the seat next to him.

"Hey there, Mr. Cheerful," he heard the bubbly voice say to him, and he turned his head to look at the pretty curly-haired brunette sitting next to him. She always used that nickname, since she had never seen Carlos in a bad mood. He had never yelled, cried, or been anything but the happiest person around her.

"Oh, hi Camille," he beamed back at her. He liked Camille, as a friend. The only reason that he and Camille were friends in the first place was due to his ineptitude in math and her originally horrible Spanish skills, the two having tutored each other during freshman year. "You look happy, something good happen this morning?"

She blushed and giggled at the question, the tan boy giving her a quizzical look. "I saw that that one amazing (and adorable) gymnast Logan Mitchell is performing again today for the Olympics." Carlos immediately felt his face heat up at the name, quickly starting to become aroused as his fantasy from that morning flooded into his head. He willed himself to be calm, regaining his composure and trying to formulate a response. The brunette girl just laughed at his red face and obvious discomfort. "Carlos, it's very, _very_ obvious now that you like him. In fact you're trying so hard to hide it that you're just making it more obvious."

Carlos' blush intensified with that. She was right of course, she knew him almost as well as James even though he had only known Camille for about two years while he and James had known each other since preschool. He was an open book to her.

"Yeah, and what's it to you?" he blurted out loudly, pulling the attention of the small groups of their classmates nearby. His blush was painfully obvious, but he just waved at the others before turning back to Camille, who was smirking widely. "Stop embarrassing me like that," he whispered with a twang of annoyance, a frown etched across his features.

"You do it to yourself, Mr. Cheerful," she replied with a wink, the Latino giving her an irritated glare. Hearing someone clearing their throat from the front of the class, the two turned forward in their chairs to see their professor.

"_Buenos días a todos_," the short woman spoke clearly and loudly to all of them, a bright smile on her face. Her bright yellow dress contrasted sharply with her black heels and dark skin, but it still looked pretty on her in Carlos' opinion.

"_Buenos días_ _Señora Wainwright_!" Carlos waved to her enthusiastically and her smile quickly turned down. The Latino knew that he wasn't exactly her favorite student. Maybe it had something to do with his constant doodling and talking during her class. Or maybe it was the fact that on the first day of her class he brought a super soaker into class and drenched the three Jennifers, which got him into pretty serious trouble. Or maybe it was just the fact that he didn't seem motivated for her class. In reality he didn't participate because it was better for the others to practice than to make him speak out with all of the answers. The course was Spanish, and he was only taking it for the credits, already being completely fluent in Spanish due to his family. But he wanted to at least get her to like him.

"_Buenos días_, _tonto_," she dismissed his greeting sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. The Latino's grin faded as he looked down at his notebook in front of him, a bit disheartened by her coldness, pulling out a pencil to begin a new doodle.

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><p>The lecture went by quickly, Carlos saying goodbye to Camille about half an hour afterwards, heading back in the direction of his apartment, turning his music back up to full volume and putting the headphones back into his ears. He danced his way down the street for about five minutes, stopping only when he saw something that caught his eye in the window of an electronics store. The Olympics were on still. And the gymnastics part was on. The Latino quickly snapped his head down to see his watch.<p>

"Dammit! It's already 11:30?" He exclaimed at the device, pushing buttons on the sides the check the timer he had set that morning to remind him of when to leave for home. It wasn't on. He picked up the pace, running down the sidewalk with his bag hitting painfully against his back, the spine of his Spanish textbook digging into his own spine.

The apartment door swung open at 11:40 and hit the wall with a loud bang, startling the brunette who was lying on the couch reading his fashion magazine. James looked over his shoulder at the Latino, perplexed.

"What's the rush?"

"Logan is going on for the Vault in like 3 minutes! Where's the remote?" Carlos shouted, frantically throwing down his backpack before searching the immediate vicinity of the television for the controller before starting to look underneath the apartment's armchair and sofa. James sighed, watching him search desperately for a minute before holding up the device for Carlos to grab. The tan boy snatched it from his hand with a squeal of glee, pushing the power button and turning the volume up as high as possible. The box flared to life, blasting loud cheers into the room.

On screen once again was the pale brunette talking to the blonde man in a suit. The news station muted the conversation between the two, but James imagined a voice that sounded fitting for the blonde. The spiky-haired boy nodded at his friend and turned away, the camera following him as he walked up to a long strip of carpet-like flooring. He jumped in place a couple of times and stretched out his back before standing completely still, staring the judges in the eyes. One of the judges made a slight nod, and Logan moved his right arm up and back down in recognition.

Watching intently, Carlos scooted closer to the television in preparation. He had never seen the Vault before and was curious as to what was going to happen. The gymnast's lopsided half-smile had disappeared from his face, and he took three deep breaths before taking off jogging down the strip of carpeting. Each foot that hit the ground quickly sprung right back out as the boy's arms swung in and out from his body, a sudden loud smack ringing out when he hit the springboard at the end of the strip. The Latino was mesmerized as the pale brunette rocketed up into the air, performing a ridiculously complicated series of maneuvers while floating through the space before landing perfectly on two feet.

The arena (and Carlos) erupted into applause and cheering, people all over standing and screaming loudly in mixes of happiness and anger as everyone realized that the pale boy had just taken first place by a landslide. His movements had been impeccable and his landing was spot on, and Logan and his blonde friend were obviously overjoyed to see the reaction from the audience, a large hand clapping onto the gymnast's back and the shorter boy pulling his friend into a crushing hug, his massive biceps flexing to full size. Carlos immediately felt himself getting hard from just looking at the girth of the muscles.

"You like that view, don't you Carlos?" The Latino had honestly forgotten that James was in the room. His face flushed, and the tall brunette just laughed, dodging the pillow that came flying toward him.

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><p>"Kendall, can we <em>please <em>get out of here, I'm so fucking tired."

"Hey, watch your language, there are children nearby. And just a few more minutes man, just wait for the crowd to thin out," the blonde replied to his friend with a slight smirk, watching the boy's huge biceps flex again as his arms crossed over his chest and he huffed in disappointment. Logan was seriously impatient after his event, he liked to get back to his hotel room and sleep on the nice soft bed while his piles of congratulation presents were taken away to be donated.

Kendall admired Logan for that; he didn't want any of the fame or fortune of being an Olympic gold medalist, he just wanted to be the normal twenty year old with an amazing talent that made him unique, just like all the rest of the people in the world.

Or at least, that's how Logan viewed it. He thought everyone else was blessed with at least one amazing talent, something that made them awesome. Kendall had a thing for hockey, but it wasn't like he was the best player in the world because of how much he enjoyed playing. Logan didn't just slaughter his competition in gymnastics (the blonde had a suspicion that Logan was secretly a robot, but he had never heard of any robots that grow up), he also loved being good at it. But the brunette just wished that he could be amazing and normal at the same time.

The pale boy sighed, signing what was probably the trillionth autograph for his billionth "biggest fan", dropping the façade of a fake smile as soon as the sixteen year old girl turned back to her friends and squealed with delight before trotting off somewhere, speaking frantically at the other girls in high-pitched French. People should just assume that he would be tired after an event, not come to find him so that he could sign a piece of paper for them or let them pose for a photo with him. Kendall had somehow convinced him to change into a suit; it must have been the delirium gained from winning his third Olympic gold that made him do it. The tie was freaking choking him, the shirt was too tight around his arms, and the dress shoes were just plain uncomfortable.

After what felt like hours, they were finally in the taxi headed back to the glamorous hotel that they were calling home currently. The brunette boy just looked out the window wistfully, sighing as he remembered how much he missed his small house by the ocean in California.

"We can't go back to LA yet, Logie, you still have three more events left." The statement just caused the brunette to groan loudly.

"Kendall, I'm so fucking tired of this place. I want to go back to my actual home, or even Wisconsin, where I can say hi to my friends or doggy any time that I want. And where I don't have to deal with billions of people watching me. And where people knew me as Logie, the sweet young gay man from down the street with a knack for gymnastics and love of hair gel, instead of Logan Mitchell, the world's best gymnast from America that every other country is angry at for being so good or wants a fucking clone of."

As his pale friend ranted about his love of his home back in Los Angeles and his hate of Europe and the Olympics and his ridiculous fans and everything else, Kendall checked his phone for any new texts or emails. There were a ton of emails from friends telling them to send Logan their congratulations; he deleted those right away, knowing that Logan would explode if he heard any more fan comments at that time. He sifted through junk mail and social networking updates, simply biding his time so that they could make it back to their hotel rooms and Logan could complain to the pillow instead of his ears. He eventually ran out of emails to read or trash, moving his eyes to the now quiet gymnast. The blonde's eyes raked up and down the boy's small frame.

Kendall had a small crush on his friend, and he couldn't help but admire the boy's body. The feelings weren't too deep, but he enjoyed them nonetheless. Every single inch of the brunette's skin was bursting with muscle, his arms being the defining feature of his body. The tight dress shirt looked like it was going to rip every time that Logan's arms moved to cross his body, the fabric straining to stay intact. Kendall was one of the few privileged enough to have seen Logan without a shirt on, seeing as how the boy would never been seen in public without one, so he knew that the rest of the boy's body was pretty much as powerful as his guns.

"Need something Kendall?" The blonde blushed deeply and turned his head away, Logan just bringing up a lopsided smile before staring back out the window.

The taxi slowly pulled to a stop, the driver about to jump out and stride over to open Logan's door for him. The pale boy stopped him, a wide frown crossing his face. "I'm not a hundred years old, conceited, or crippled. I can open my own door," he said flatly, the taxi driver quickly backing away. The excessive fatigue was preventing him from getting too angry, but he just wished that he didn't get any special treatment or anything. He could be a normal person too.

Logan just wanted his bed. Somehow he got up to his hotel room 3K, opening the door, ignoring the stack of presents that was already waiting, quickly stripping his shirt and pants before collapsing onto his bed and immediately falling asleep. His taller friend sighed, having followed him into the room to have a quick conversation that apparently wasn't going to happen now. Walking over to the bed, Kendall ruffled Logan's still sweat matted hair, fighting the urge to lean down and wrap his arms around the boy for a hug and quietly exited, shutting the door silently behind him.

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><p>AN: Ta-da! Yay for Logan and Kendall developments! Anyways, I'm having fun writing this one so far. Did you catch what I did there with Logan's hotel room number? Ah well, please review, and I'll catch ya on the flip side!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: One of the comments on the story with last chapter left me curious. Someone said that 'Nothing Even Matters' is "Logan's song". How exactly do you people determine who the song "belongs to" for BTR? Is it who sings the forefront in the chorus, or who sings the first line, or whose voice you can distinguish most easily? Seriously, I'm really curious. Can someone supply me with a list or spreadsheet or something?

Meanwhile, I realized why I post these late at night. It's always nice to wake up in the morning to reviews. Thank you to _TydusGT, Algophobia, TakenLiterally, duckduck4, sleepless nights x, Ercassiel-x, x-shmanda-x, JessamineLovelace, Koga Sukarama, rumbleroar846, huyandhieu, squoctobird, Lewkis, hahippy, _and last (but not least) _Sum1cooler _(thanks for reviewing every chapter of every story so far) for your reviews, favorites, and alerts. They mean a lot.

Now, on with the show!

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><p>Chapter III<p>

Kendall sighed as he watched Logan drift back and forth from one end of the hotel's luxurious pool, seeing his bright yellow-green swim trunks clearly in the low light. "How could you possibly have enough energy to swim but not enough to practice your routines?" It was such a managerial thing to say, and Logan rolled his eyes at the idea.

"Well, you see, swimming is easy," the gymnast responded with a smirk.

"Gymnastics is pretty easy for you too." The smirk faded, and Logan turned his head away with a 'hmpf' noise, closing his eyes to quickly dunk under the water.

Logan absolutely loved swimming. It was probably the most relaxing thing that he could do other than sleeping, which he was tired of doing. The water was just the right temperature, and he shuddered as the smell of chlorine burned in his airway. But the burning was a somewhat welcome feeling compared to the freezing cold air of his hotel room. "Kendall, come on in, the water is great!" he exclaimed and waved excitedly at the calm blond who was just sitting in a chair beside the pool watching his friend. Kendall's eyes followed the waving hand in a daze for a second before he snapped back to reality.

"Logan, I don't really feel like it."

"Oh come now, it's not bad at all. Don't you see how much fun I'm having?" the compact brunette inquired with a laugh, diving downward right afterwards and performing a front flip under the surface. Kendall sighed once more before grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it off, dropping the piece of fabric in his chair. Strolling over to the edge, the blond took a deep breath and plunged into the still-ish water.

Logan had lied. The pool was freezing in Kendall's opinion. As soon as he surfaced his teeth began chattering and he swam over toward the edge again. He heard small splashes and felt something rush between his legs when suddenly Logan popped up in front of him with a frown.

"You can't get out yet, you just now got in!" Logan whined at him, placing his hands on his tall friend's shoulders.

"I c-can and I w-will," Kendall stuttered between violent shivers. Man was that pool cold. He would do anything to get out at the time.

Logan gave his signature lopsided half-smile. "Well if you want out then you have to get past me," he chuckled. "Since you aren't exactly the smartest guy ever, you aren't going to outwit me. And since you're not the one with guns of steel, I don't think that you're going to win a wrestling match. Therefore, I don't think that you're getting out until I let you."

Kendall groaned. He knew that the gymnast was right, but he didn't want to admit it. At least, not out loud. He slowly swam off to the right, only to be blocked again by the shorter boy. Next he tried going left, but with the same results. There was only one thing left to do. His hands grabbed onto the brunette's shoulders and pushed him out of the way, but just as he reached the edge he felt two huge arms wrap around his upper chest.

'_Dammit…'_

Logan's legs kicked into action and pushed the gymnast and his struggling blond friend right back to the center of the pool, spinning the taller boy around to face him at the end. "You just don't give up do you Kenny?" the brunette teased with a playful poke on the nose.

"No, I don't. I only lost because I just can't compete with a muscle monster," his friend replied with an identical poke to Logan's left bicep. On a normal person, the poke would've met only a little resistance and the skin would press down a little. The skin on Logan's arm didn't budge even a nanometer, and his muscles weren't even flexed. His friend blushed at that statement.

"I'm not a monster," he replied in a little kid voice, pushing out his lower lip in an adorable pout. Kendall laughed at his friend, pushing the boy back a bit and starting to swim toward the edge.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get out. I need to get some papers ready for tomorrow, you have an interview that is going to be broadcast live back to the US, so you need to figure out the answers to the questions I left on the desk back in your room. I don't want anything stupid coming out of that usually smart brain on live TV." The blond stepped from the water, shaking his head vigorously to remove all the wet from his hair and ears. "Great, now I smell like chlorine. But anyways, I'll see you at dinner, okay?"

"Fine," Logan whined, gaining a roll of the eyes from the blond who was now turning to leave the pool area. Kendall was supposed to be a friend here, not clones of his mom and dad smashed into one person. Kendall was doing so much paperwork and taking care of everything that the gymnast needed, and Logan hated that. He didn't want his friend to have to work on what was supposed to be a vacation, but that was what a manager did.

When the door to the pool area squeaked again to signal it opening, Logan turned around in the water to see a medium height blonde girl in a red bikini. She acknowledged his presence with a smile. "Oh hi there Logan, how are you?"

"Hey Jo, pretty good, how about yourself? Having a good day so far?"

"My day has been lovely, thank you." Jo was another one of the American athletes that came to compete, but she was a runner, not a gymnast. In fact, she was supposed to be at an entirely different hotel. The group captains wanted each type of athlete to be isolated with their teammates, but Jo insisted on being in the same hotel as her two good friends Kendall and Logan. She had enough influence in the team that she always got what she wanted out of them, so she was the only non-gymnast staying at what was deemed the "Gymnast's Hotel". "Where's Kendall, I was hoping to talk to him," she asked, easing herself into the hot tub only a few feet away.

Logan scoffed at the name, still a little annoyed that the blond had essentially ditched him. "He went back to his room to do paperwork. He's such a buzz kill sometimes." The blond girl giggled as she watched the muscular gymnast hoist himself out of the pool and gingerly step into the relaxingly warm water. Sitting down, he noticed her eyeing him, smirking as he shook his head.

"Jo, you know that this is off limits," he laughed, motioning to his body.

"I know, I know. Window-shopping isn't illegal, is it? And since that's basically equivalent to what I'm doing, I'm gonna keep doing it." She joked right back at him. Both of them laughed, falling silent for a little bit shortly afterwards.

The two conversed for about ten more minutes before Logan decided to leave the pool. He bid Jo goodbye, toweling himself dry, grabbing his possessions, and pushing the door open. The elevator slowly made its way up to the third floor, and Logan slipped his card key into the reader on his door upon arriving. He was greeted by the sight of another small stack of presents and envelopes. Picking up the phone, he immediately called the same number that he had every day since he had won his first gold medal. In only a few minutes the presents would be removed by the same people that had every other day.

The gymnast reached for the stack of envelopes and sifted through them, running a hand through his still damp hair. _'Fan mail, fan mail, fan mail, mom, fan mail, dad, grandpa, fan mail, gift mail, fan mail,'_ he thought as he dropped some cards into a huge pile of unread fan mail, others into family member mail, and a select few with the other presents. Only two envelopes caught his attention.

The first was a beautiful purple envelope, paper seemingly embroidered with intricate patterns. What really stood out was that his name was written in crayon on the front, letters messy and tipping all over the place. It was from a kid, and a pretty small one at that. Logan loved little kids, and getting mail from them always brightened up his day. He carefully opened the seal, making sure not to damage the purple paper in any way. Pulling out the white piece of paper inside, the brunette smiled as he (attempted to) read the sloppy crayon words, smiling widely when he noticed that misspelled words and lack of capitalization that would usually bug him.

'_deer mister logan,_

_my name is lily and i think you are a grate jimnest. daddy says that you won lotsa gold medals and i think that is good so i wanted to send you more luck so that you will win a lot more and make evereewun else even more hapee! i hope you win more! i am going to jimnastiks camp next week so i can lern to be just like you! good luck!_

_from lily.'_

Logan's smile got wider as he finished the letter. The girl was probably only about four or five judging from the number of spelling errors she had made, and he felt even happier knowing that he was inspiring such a small girl. A knock on the door snapped him back from his thoughts, causing him to place the letter alongside three others in a small cranny in his desk.

"Come on in Colin, it's unlocked," the gymnast yelled to the door as he grabbed his shirt and slipped it back on, the tight material almost suffocating him. He needed to get some new clothes sometime soon, and while he was tempted to open his presents occasionally and check for a couple of looser shirts, he knew that he would probably find some random gift that he didn't want or need. Logan watched as a blond man about his height walked in, dragging a cart behind him. Colin was only three years older than him and had the same sort of build: short and muscular.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Mitchell," the man said courteously with a tip of his dark green hat. Logan sighed at the name.

"I've told you this already, you can call me Logan, it's not like my name is cursed or I'm Voldemort or anything."

The compact blond shook his head and started to load some boxes onto the cart. "Sorry Logan, you're just an international celebrity at the moment and I was taught by my pa to respect people of higher status, so that's why-"

"Colin," Logan interrupted, "listen to me. I'm just a normal person with a single amazing talent. I'm not of any sort of higher status than you are. I'm just a regular twenty year old with an amazing talent that is on the Olympic Team, and as soon as we head back to the US I'm going back to being normal for as long as possible." The brunette stared into the blond's deep blue eyes, looking for any form of understanding, but not really seeing anything but confusion. Why was he confiding in Colin of all people? The moving man was definitely not a genius by any standard. In fact, he was dumb as a brick and just as stubborn and tough.

Shaking his head, Logan motioned for Colin to continue his business as he looked at the second letter. A plain white envelope with nothing but the name _'Carlos Garcia'_ written in neat cursive on the front. Logan was used to receiving neat letters from girls and somewhat unkempt ones from guys, but this was the first one that was both neat and from a guy. In fact, the writing was absolutely impeccable, which Logan found very attractive for some reason. He could tell that this Carlos guy really cared about this letter, especially obvious from the extra four dollars in stamps attached to the envelope and the words "Handle with Extreme Care" written underneath in permanent ink. If there had been a single error then the card would just be in the pile with all the other fan mail, but Logan couldn't find a single thing wrong with it.

Just like with the previous one, the brunette carefully pulled up the flap on the envelope, removing the simple piece of paper from inside. The paper was very formal looking, being monogrammed with a very familiar college symbol, but Logan couldn't figure out where he knew it from.

'_Dear Logan Mitchell:_

_You'll probably never read this, since from what I hear you don't exactly love fan mail, but just in case you do, I want to tell you some things. First off, OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO AMAZING-' _Logan frowned at that, almost ready to dump the paper in the pile, but he worked around his annoyance to continue reading. _'-and all that jazz, and I'm sure you don't like that much, but I just had to say that. It's true you know. You're seriously inspiring to anyone with a little talent._

_Second, I'm just proud to know that you live in LA too. Representing California pretty well dude, keep it up!-'_ That was where Logan recognized the monogram from. It was the symbol and mascot for UCLA. He mentally slapped himself for not remembering immediately. _'-I'm really happy to go to a school in the same city as such a great athlete that I may eventually meet, even if only for a couple seconds._

_Third, I want to mention how hot-' _The gymnast immediately skipped the following part of the letter, jumping ahead to the next paragraph. He was hoping that the letter wouldn't have too much gushing, but there wasn't any escaping it.

_Last but not least, I really hope that if we actually DO meet sometime that I could actually talk to you. According to some sources (mainly the news), you're actually a very smart person under all that muscle, and I feel like you'd appreciate a talk with another knowledgeable guy (since I'm assuming not many of the other athletes know much about computers or doctoring). I put a picture in the envelope if you end up trying to find me, but I won't be offended if you don't try; you are a professional athlete after all._

_Anyways, if you really read all of this crap, then I salute you, and I wish you great luck on whatever event you have next. Pommel horse I think it is? Man, with arms like yours there's no way you're going to do anything wrong on that. Just know that you have a really dedicated fan watching. Have a good one sir._

_Sincerely, Carlos Garcia.'_

Logan reread the last few lines again. Carlos seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and Logan decided to reach back into the envelope to grab the picture. It was rather small, but Logan could make out all of the boy's major features. A short boy with naturally bronzed skin, jet-black hair, and piercing brown eyes smiled up at him from the page. _'Not bad looking… hell, he's a cutie,' _Logan grinned, grabbing out his wallet and stuffing the picture into an easy to see slot.

Colin had just loaded the last of his unwanted gifts onto the cart, and was starting to wheel them away. "Anything else I can do for you Mr. Mi- er, Logan?"

"Not at the moment Colin. You have a good day."

"Yes sir." The blond shut the door behind him, and Logan went to lie down on his bed, grabbing a stack of papers with questions for his interview and a pen before flopping onto his bed.

The first question was "When did you figure out that you had a knack for gymnastics?" Logan flipped through the pages, counting. There were 9 pages.

'_It's gonna be a long night…'_

* * *

><p>AN: Long letter is long. Oh well. I haven't had to write for Jo yet, so I hope I'm not doing anything stupid by including her and I hope that I don't make her do anything that is out of character. So yeah.

I'm stuck in Maine (which I still hate, no offense to Maine-ers), and have two parents and a homophobic best friend breathing down my neck. I had to trick my friend into thinking that I'm writing a digital diary to keep him from looking over my shoulder when I write, and although I hate lying… wait, I love lying! Disregard the end of that statement.

Now, I'm going to return to getting pissed at the bugs flying around my bedroom. It's so hard to sleep when I think I'm gonna accidentally eat one. Have a better night than I am, everyone (shouldn't be too hard), developments for Carlos' side and a new Dreamscape update coming soon (or eventually. It's not going so well…)! Have a good whatever!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Oh man, I've fallen in love with David Archuleta's music… I'm not sure if that's good or bad; it's amazingly wonderful music, but I've been listening to so much music lately that I've been forgetting to write. Just sitting on top of the frame of the playground's swingset and singing my heart out along with my favorite artists. (sigh) One thing that I think attracted me to his music might be that his voice is similar in sound (to my ears) to Carlos' voice…

Time to get this running. Chapter 4 time!

Disclaimers- I don't own the BTR boys, or Apple. I really wish I owned both, since then I could buy whatever I wanted and have Carlos around to be a (boy)friend. But I don't, so ho hum. I do own the ideas and any semi-original characters mentioned. Oh, and I don't own the lyrics. You'll find out what song they're from in two more chapters, or if you're anxious just go look it up.

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><p>Chapter IV<p>

Carlos watched the TV intently. Logan was going on soon. The event: pommel horse. He stared as the current athlete, some guy from American Samoa named Montenegro, attempted his best on it. It was an adequate performance, earning adequate scores. Nothing amazing. The raven-haired boy just wanted to see his favorite gymnast go on.

James had left for a while, but the tan boy had completely forgotten about that. His focus was on the screen and the screen alone. Except for the occasional stray thought about whether his dream guy had actually read his letter or not, he was one hundred percent focused on the bright box. Finally, his favorite brunet athlete walked out from the side, moving to sit down in a chair over by the piece of equipment he would soon be using. The camera followed along behind the pale boy as he walked, giving Carlos a nice view of a pair of wide shoulders, a heavily muscled back, the same two massive biceps, and the gymnast's butt. Carlos smiled at the image, beginning to feel aroused. He rubbed at his crotch, moaning lowly at the screen.

"God, how I would love to pound that tight ass… or have him pound me, either way is fine," the Latino thought aloud to the apartment.

"Okay, that is _not_ something that I need to hear right as I walk in," he heard returned, literally jumping out of his seat in front of the TV. The tan boy turned to see James standing in the open doorway, the tall brunet with a sly smirk etched onto his features. Carlos' heart was beating out of his chest, his arousal having completely dissipated; he had forgotten that James went out a little earlier, having become absorbed by the flashing picture box and its pretty colors. Blushing intensely, he felt his heart rate begin to slow down a little, the scare washing away, simply hearing James laugh loudly.

"Next time, knock before you come in," the tan boy said with a glare, hearing his roommate sigh in response. The brunet held a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Dude, this is _my _apartment where I'm letting _you _live. I can come in whenever and however I damn please. Hell, I could come in here at three in the morning playing a piccolo with an entire marching band following behind me so that we could have an obnoxiously loud party, and you wouldn't have any say in the matter." Carlos frowned. James was right about that, he could do anything he wanted and Carlos couldn't stop him. Sighing, the Latino turned back to the television.

Logan had advanced up to the beige colored equipment, placing his hands on the handles just as the tan boy's eyes landed on the screen.

"Carlos," he heard from behind him.

"One second James, Logan is up now."

"Carlos, seriously, you don't _have _to watch every event he does. Anyways, pommel horse isn't even exciting, and I need to talk to you about the Samueli Concert this month." The tan boy actually turned his head away from the bright pictures upon hearing the name of the engineering school. And he did agree, pommel horse bored him to death even if Logan was up now. It was just someone swinging their legs all over. "Just look at the scores after he's done."

"Fine. Now, what about the concert?" James simply sighed at his best friend's stupidity.

"Well, maybe the fact that you _still _haven't picked a song yet." Carlos let out a small huff and pouted. He already had so much work to do, and he had forgotten about the stupid song for the concert that their little musical group performed at the street fair every two months. The tall brunet was always so serious about the concert, being a music major. It was apparently a really big deal since it showcased the taller boy's abilities, even though Carlos sang lead _every time_. The tan boy ran through the list of songs that he had listened to lately, comparing which ones he liked most before smiling.

"I have two ideas. Here's my iPod, go listen to these two songs," Carlos tapped on the screen rapidly, choosing two songs and placing them into a playlist for his taller friend. James grabbed the object out of the boy's hand, looking at the two names. His left eyebrow rose, and he glanced back at his roommate questioningly.

"They sound kinda dark, don't you think?"

"James, trust me, they're really good, and I think that they'll actually be easy to sing compared to that stuff that you usually try to get me to sing." The tall brunet looked at Carlos in shock, bottom jaw hanging in disbelief.

"Katy Perry is awesome, don't you dare diss her."

"I never said anything about her personally, I just said that _I can't sing that high_. _I'm not a girl._" James simply rolled his eyes, grabbing a pair of headphones from his pocket and plugging the jack into the top of the device. The Latino watched as he became absorbed by the music, turning back around to look at the television. Logan had finished, and Carlos saw the scores flash across the bottom. First place, yet again. Smiling, the tan boy started to hum to himself, one of the songs that he gave to James flicking through his memory. He opened his mouth, and began to sing quietly to himself.

"_You want somebody, just anybody_

_to lay their hands on your soul tonight._

_You want a reason to keep believin'_

_that someday you're gonna see the light._

'_Cause you're desperate."_

Finishing the lyric, the tan boy heard some soft clapping off to the side, turning to see his best friend slowly bringing his hands together.

"I think we have our songs," James smiled, unplugging his headphones and handing the iPod back to Carlos. Blushing, Carlos stuck the object back into his pocket, uttering an almost inaudible thank you. James felt his expression soften even more than before. Carlos, while not being remotely interested in being a music major, had one of the best voices on campus, having been voted "most likely to be a professional singer" by their high school. James hadn't been offended by that, because of course he won "most beautiful/handsome" and "most likely to be famous". Even during puberty, Carlos' voice had remained beautiful, the tan boy not having suffered from the dreaded voice cracks that hit most teenage boys like a sack of bricks. In other words, his singing was nearly always impeccable.

Carlos then realized what his taller friend had said. "Wait, _songs?"_

"Yeah."

"As in, plural of song? You mean we're doing both?" James nodded, and Carlos bit his lip nervously. He knew that he could sing, but he wasn't exactly an endurance type; even if he had a nice voice, he couldn't sing for hours on end like James could. Even two songs could burn his throat out for the next couple of days if he sang loud like he would have to for their concert. James noticed the nervousness on his friend's face, patting him on the back.

"Carlos, don't freak out, you'll do fine. We'll get everyone together to practice tomorrow, but for now how 'bout a little more of watching your little crush on TV? I hear that he's doing an interview, this is going to be your first and probably only opportunity to ever hear him speak." Carlos' lips turned upward, watching his friend grab a soda from the fridge and sit back down on their couch.

"Unless he read my letter and wants to visit."

"In your dreams."

"No, in my dreams not only does he do that but then he becomes my boyfriend and we grow old together. And we adopt two beautiful children. And we have a whole lot of sex." James choked on his soda.

"_Excuse me?"_

"What, I just said that me and Logan would have a lot of sex," Carlos repeated, not seeming to understand what James was reacting to.

"Yeah, um, that. Carlos, why are you possibly thinking about sex already with this guy?"

"James, I'm twenty years old, I'm perfectly allowed to have sex by this point." The tan boy's eyes glazed over a little, and he looked down at his feet. "I actually already have…" James put his soda down heavily, staring at his best friend.

"What was that?" Carlos winced at the tone that the taller boy was using.

"I've already had my first James," the Latino echoed his earlier statement. James' eyes widened in disbelief. He was stunned that his best friend had kept such a deep secret from him. Trying to formulate a response, the brunet's mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish.

"B-but Carlos, why do I not know about this? I mean, I would've thought that you're still a virgin." The tan boy sighed, sitting on the couch next to the taller boy.

"I'm not, and I sort of regret having him as my first."

"Your first time was with another guy?"

"Yeah… you remember Garrett, right?" James flinched. Garrett had to be one of the strangest people ever. Short hair, short stature, skin bursting with muscle. In middle school, he had been a sweet, somewhat sickly boy who never created trouble except for when he helped James and Carlos with pranks. In high school, however, he changed. He enjoyed taking his anger out on other people, and everyone in their high school became afraid of him. James swore that he was on steroids, since nobody grew that muscular or changed disposition that quickly without a little "help". But somehow, he, Carlos, and James had been pretty good friends since they had all met in middle school, before Garrett had turned into a raging muscle monster. Snapping out of his thoughts, the pretty boy put his arm around the Latino's shoulders.

"You're talking about the one from the hockey team and from middle school, right?"

"Yeah, that one. Back in Minnesota." Carlos' eyes shone with unreleased tears.

"Please tell me he-"

"He was gay."

"I know that, but-"

"Yes, he was my first. He's the one who 'took my V-card'," Carlos sighed, putting air quotes up around the last few words. "I was only 17 at the time and I was… experimenting." James looked at his best friend. That must be why Carlos didn't come out to James until his eighteenth birthday. He still wasn't sure or secure until that point. "Bi-curious, y'know," the tan boy continued, tears beginning to fall. "I couldn't tell if I actually had feelings for guys or not, and it looks like I kinda liked being on the gay side of the line more than the straight side."

Waterfalls of tears ran straight down the sides of the boy's face. "I regret it. I wish that I had my first time with someone I really love." James was furious with Garrett, but for now he had to keep a strong arm around Carlos, comforting his wailing friend.

"Was he violent about it?" Carlos looked up at him, tears halting a bit.

"No… it was strange. He completely changed during… sex." He had a hard time getting the word out. "He was very passionate and romantic about it. He made sure that I enjoyed every single moment of it, but he is responsible for this." The tan boy pulled the fabric of his shirt off of his shoulder, revealing naturally bronzed skin to his friend. James had seen the scar before, but Carlos had just waved it up as a birthmark before, the tall boy having believed him. There were four small indents on his shoulder, two on the front and two on the back of his shoulderblade, boring somewhat deep into the Latino's skin.

"What happened?" James asked, rubbing the spot lightly. He was surprised when Carlos moaned lustfully when the fingers ghosted over the tan skin. The boy quickly pulled his shirt back over the spot, forcing James' hand to retreat.

"It's the remains of a love bite," Carlos admitted, blushing heavily due to his unintentional noise. "He had a pretty strong jaw, and he managed to leave this behind for the world to see. It's still more sensitive than pretty much any other spot on my body." James' eyes burned with fury at their once-friend. Spotting it, Carlos sighed. "It's fine James," he soothed the pretty boy. "Although I do regret having him as my first, I actually really enjoyed it. He was… skilled, I guess. I can't really think of the correct word for it, so skilled will have to do. Now, how about we stop talking about this? I want to watch that interview."

"…Right."

The television flickered back on, and the two sat in silence as a cheery blond woman began talking to the raven-haired boy's favorite person in the world.

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><p>AN: Yay for character backstory development. I'm very happy with how this turned out for once, but I think that it isn't quite as good as what's coming up in the future.

Anyways, thank you very much to _Monocle51, Denahi, JessamineLovelace, Sum1cooler, Lewkis, huyandhieu, duckduck4, squoctobird, ILSK4Ever, SBAgusgus, EmperorIndy, _and _a-z-a4562_ for your reviews, faves, and alerts. I also promised myself that I would apologize to _squoctobird _for seeming sarcastic at the beginning of last chapter's note; it's not their fault for interpreting it that way, I realized that I write in a very sarcastic manner since that's how my brain is oriented to speak to absolutely everyone, regardless of whether I want it to or not. So, I am sorry for that.

So, in the end thank you for reading, please review, more to come in the future (I'm excited for this story, I have so many ideas). Next chapter may even be up before the weekend is over. Ah well. Have a great night, and have fun doing whatever it is that you all do.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So I'm stuck in the car for 18 hours heading back to Indiana. That means it's time to type. Thank you to_ Jistone, slowdownlittlelade, BadLuckGrl13, AlexaSummer, huyandhieu, Monocle51, TidusGT, Sum1cooler, duckduck4, squoctobird, _and_ Lewkis_ for your reviews, faves, and alerts. As always they mean so much.

Just a note before this chapter though- I have friends who live in France and speak the language natively, and I did notice that most of the time when they speak English they replace "th" with "z", so I did that here. Hope that doesn't result in any confusion for anyone reading. Also, with the texts in here, if any of you have an iPhone, you'll probably know about group conversations. For those that don't, when you send a text to multiple people, it creates a larger IM type conversation between all the recipients.

Now, let's get the show on the road!

Disclaimers: I own nothing but the ideas and any OCs that you may see. Read the bottom note for an explanation of the OCs.

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><p>Chapter V<p>

"Bienvenue and welcome to zee program," the woman said in her thick French accent. Carlos laughed at her voice, and James shook his head at how easily amused his roommate was. The tall brunet looked back up at the screen, watching French subtitles scroll across the bottom. "Zis morning we have monsieur Logan Mitchell here to answer a few questions for us." The gymnast and his manager walked on, Logan nervously waved and smiled. The tan boy giggled slightly at the sight, watching as Logan turned to the woman when she started to speak again.

"So, how are you zis evening monsieur Mitchell?"

"I am doing quite well, thanks, and please, do call me Logan," the short brunet took the woman's hand, kissing it lightly before sitting down. Carlos smirked at the sight, hearing the woman on-screen giggle lightly. _'What a gentleman he is…'_

"Well Logan, how do you feel being here at zee Olympics, especially after having won your fourth golden medal?"

"Well, it's nice, everyone is being helpful and supportive here. Well, the other gymnasts aren't so much, but everyone else is nice enough." The reporter smiled at him again, scanning him over once more before starting anew. The blond man sitting next to him just kept the same contented smirk as before.

"I see. And are you excited about zee recent fame and popularity zat zeese medals have brought to you?" Logan's lips turned downward.

"Frankly, I don't like being famous."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, I mean, I may be a great gymnast, but who says that I want the crazy celebrity life? I've actually given away every single gift that I've been sent, and almost all of my fan mail is sitting unread in a pile in my hotel room." Carlos' heart sank at the last few words.

"It's true, Logan isn't the type to love gushing and he's given all the little gifts that have arrived to a charity," the blond by his side affirmed.

"I bet he didn't even give my letter a sideways glance," the Latino sighed, slumping a bit and feeling James' hand rub a soothing circle on his back.

"It's possible man, he said _most_ of it. And seeing how much care you put into that thing it must have caught his attention for at least a second." Carlos smiled at his friend.

"True, I did put like five whole dollars worth of extra stamps on that thing. Heck, maybe he did read it."

"Most of the letters that I kept are from any young children that write to me." The two college students turned back to the program upon hearing the gymnast's voice again. "For instance, I received a darling letter from a little girl named Lily yesterday, and I felt really great after reading it."

"Zat's very nice. Now you said 'most of zee letters'. Does zat mean zat zere are others zat you keep?" The brunet onscreen smiled and closed his eyes, apparently enjoying the memory.

"Yes, there's one other one that I decided to keep. The guy who sent it made sure it was taken really good care of. There had to be at least five extra stamps on that thing." Everyone on screen laughed. James and Carlos just turned to stare at each other in disbelief, but they both noticed when the gymnast's manager raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Yeah, it was from a college student in California by the name of Carlos. It was nice and neat, which is another thing that drew my eye to it."

"Is zis 'Carlos' someone zat you've been hoping to get home to?" the blond woman asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow in a way that mirrored the blond man sitting across from her. The tan boy watched, completely shocked. It was his letter. The guy of his dreams had actually looked at _his_ letter out of the thousands he had probably received from people all across the country. He saw the pale boy on screen flush bright red.

"Maybe a little, I mean, I've never met him of course, he's just a fan. But he invited me to come have a talk with him."

"So zis boy asked you on a date?" Apparently it was still possible for the gymnast's face to grow even redder than it already was.

"I-I guess? I mean, he just offered to h-have a chat with me. He guessed that most of the other athletes here aren't very intellectual and offered to have a smart conversation. He's right, by the way. Either the other athletes don't speak English or they're dumb as a cinderblock." Everyone laughed again, but Carlos just jumped up from the sofa, absolutely elated.

"Fuck yeah! That's my letter, man! He freaking read _my letter_ and now he may want to actually come meet me! _Me _of all people." Carlos put a hand over his heart, which seemed ready to beat its way straight out of his chest. "God, I may just have a heart attack." The tan boy bounced around the room, completely overjoyed. James smiled at his friend, standing up to grab another soda from the fridge. He dodged his way past the flailing mass of limbs that was his roommate, walking into the kitchen when his phone buzzed.

'_Finally, a reply,'_ the tall brunet thought, pulling the device from his pocket and seeing a few new texts pop onto the screen as soon as he checked the old one.

_Me- Band practice today and Monday 3pm. Meet at usual place, Rocque's Sound Booth._

_Jett S.- jeez, took long enuf for papi to pick a damn song_

_Dak Z.- Okay then, that works._

_Jett S.- o hey there Dak, howz life?_

The phone buzzed multiple more times in rapid succession, and James sighed. Dak and Jett didn't get along amazingly well, and they always argued over text even if they acted semi-civil in person. James joined the conversation when the two started fighting.

_Dak Z.- Jett, shut the hell up_

_Jett S.- u mad bro?_

_Me- Jett, just shut it and bring your damn sticks_

_Jett S.- o, i'll bring my stick alright_

_Dak Z.- (facepalm)_

_Camille R.- I came into this conversation at the wrong time, didn't I?_

_Me- Jett, stop talking_

_Jett S.- wut r u gonna do, kik me out of da band? i'm the best drummer on campus, pretty boy, u can't replace me_

_Aaron K.- dude this is hilarious, keep going_

James sighed, taking his soda back over to the couch. At least, halfway to the couch before he was smacked in the face by one of Carlos' still flailing hands. The soda and phone flew from James' grasp, spilling onto the floor. The tall boy scowled, grabbing his phone before the sugary drink managed to make its way over and ruin the device. Glaring at his friend and running a hand through his silky hair, he went to go grab a mop, the tan boy still dancing about happily, completely oblivious to the situation at hand and all of the rest of the talkshow.

* * *

><p>Logan stumbled off the stage of the talkshow, coughing loudly and grabbing for a glass of water on a nearby table. That last question had left him pretty unnerved and flustered, she had basically asked if this Carlos guy that he had never even met before was actually his fuck buddy and if he was having an affair behind the back of his nonexistent fiancé. And Kendall had just been sitting there the whole time <em>snickering about it.<em> Gulping down the liquid, he heard heavy footsteps walking up behind him.

"Hey, dude, what up?" he heard his manager ask in a strict yet caring tone. Turning to the tall blond, Logan noticed the concern in his eyes. "You totally just looked like you were going to faint then ran away."

"Look, that lady is making me really, _really _fucking uncomfortable. She's asking so many questions about this guy that I just received a letter from yesterday." The taller man scratched his head.

"Well, yeah, about that… why did you keep that letter?"

"I already said that he seems like a nice and interesting person."

"Yes, but are you actually planning on going to see him? I mean, you had better, he was probably watching and now you got his hopes up."

"I was already going to. As soon as we get home… well, maybe a quick nap first, but then I'm going to see him." The blond grinned at his friend.

"There ya go, getting out to meet the fans, maybe sign an autograph, talk for a few minutes, then go ahead and get going back home. It'll be the perfect opportunity for a little bit of mingling with your adoring fans." Logan sighed.

"Well, he sent a picture along with his letter, and-"

"Oh, really? That'll make it easier to find him I bet. Now, let's see him," Kendall butted in, stepping a little closer as he watched his friend pull out his wallet. "You put the picture in your wallet? Wait, that means…" Logan put the picture up in his friend's face. The blond scanned it over once. "Well… um… he's seems nice, I guess. But you have it in there, which means that you're really wanting to meet this guy."

"Uh-huh," the gymnast replied, nodding slowly and blushing lightly. Kendall smirked, seeing that Logan had just confirmed his suspicions.

"Aw, little Logie has a crush on his fan, how cute." Logan's face turned a deep red color, and he punched his manager in the shoulder.

"Shut up, you should have seen what he wrote in the letter; he's a total gusher, he definitely feels the same way about me. But that woman is assuming that he's already my boyfriend and is waiting for me back home with bated breath and it's making me seriously uncomfortable," he replied, fidgeting a little as he shoved the small image back into his wallet and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Kendall looked up, somewhat concerned for his friend's feelings, but then clapped a hand on the shorter boy's back.

"Look, we don't have to go back out if you really don't want to. I can tell the woman that we're done for today and then we can go back to the hotel for a swim."

"…You promise?"

"I promise."

"And will you actually get in this time?" Logan grabbed his friend's large hand and looked up at him, eyes wide and begging. Kendall tried to resist, but he couldn't.

"…Fine, I'll get in."

"Yay!" Logan shouted as he started to pull the blond away. He struggled to stop the short, muscular ball of sudden energy, but couldn't, simply shouting at him instead.

"Wait, Logan, I still have to tell her that we're leaving!"

"Oh Kenny, you have to learn that it's okay to be rude sometimes. Just be spontaneous!"

* * *

><p>"Where is everyone?" James was annoyed. He expected that with two hours of notice that everyone would be in the practice room and ready to go at exactly three o'clock. Nobody except him and Carlos were there. He looked over to the tan boy who was in the process of adjusting the microphone. Upon getting it to the perfect height, he sang a couple notes into it, proceeding over to the speakers right afterwards to check them for sound quality as well. James sighed again, looking at his phone. 3:08. Mr. Rocque only lent them the sound booth for a couple hours after extensive begging and promises from the pretty boy, and they had a lot of work to do.<p>

Finally, James heard the door open and watched as his bandmates filed in. Jett walked in first, spouting off some story about a girl or something.

"So in the end, it totally rocked," the drama major finished as he stepped into the room, drumsticks in hand. Another brunet boy with short hair, Aaron, laughed from behind the actor, and Dak rolled his eyes from further back.

"You know Jett, you're so full of shit."

"Oh really, _Dak._ Tell me, when is the last time _you_ got a girl? Oh wait, I'm sorry, I mean _a guy_. Fucking fag." Dak's face turned beet red, his nostrils flaring. James glared at his stuck up friend.

"Didn't I tell you not to use that word around the three of us? Oh yeah, I did. _Never_ say that word if Dak, Carlos, or I are nearby or I'll kick your ass into next week." Jett scoffed, but seeing the murderous look in both James' and Dak's eyes, he shrunk back, hands up in front of him.

"Okay, okay, jeez. Don't get your skirts in a bunch," he conceded, slouching over and walking towards the drum set to bang out a few notes. During the whole confrontation, Camille had just been gossiping up a storm with her blonde and strawberry-blonde friends.

"Did you see what she was wearing?" Camille was referring to a girl that they saw on the way over. "She had a total Goth look, except she looked like a slut at the same time. She was a 'sloth'!" Her friends laughed, Jesi the strawberry-blonde pushing her green-framed glasses higher onto her face to keep them from falling as giggles escaped her mouth.

"Oh I know, hideous, wasn't it?"

"Totally disgusting, who would ever think to dress like _that_?" the last girl, Rachel, said. All three girls laughed, and James sighed. It was as if the rest of the band didn't exist to the girls at the moment.

"Ladies, please, can we get to work?" The three looked over to James as if his presence had surprised them. He tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. "Gustavo only gave us this room for two hours, and since the six of you took so freaking long to get here, we may not get to practice both songs. I know that we're all good enough to play it by ear, so let's go." The two nodded, walking toward their spots.

"Okay," Carlos stepped to the front. "For both songs, I'll be lead, James will be bass, and Jett will be drums as always."

"We already assumed that, papi, hurry it up," Jett sneered sarcastically. Carlos glared daggers at him for the nickname, and the actor looked right back with a snobbish smirk stuck to his face. Sighing, the tan boy looked down at the list in his hands again.

"For the first song, Dak and Aaron," he continued, pointing to the brunets who were standing side by side in front of him, "you two are on guitar and will both be singing harmony. Dak, you have rhythm, Aaron, you have riffs." The two high-fived, spouting off various small sayings as they grabbed a couple of the electric guitars that were sitting against the wall. Carlos smiled at their enthusiasm, and then turned to the three remaining girls.

"Camille, you get out the electric keyboard, and Jesi and Rachel, I need you to hit up that percussion cabinet for a triangle, some bongos, and a tambourine. You have to be _on the ball_ with this stuff, there's no time for breaks during these two songs." The tan boy clasped his hands together, looking at his friends grabbing everything. He licked his lips, getting ready to sing his heart out as he grabbed his iPod out to play them the song.

* * *

><p>"This band amazes me every time," James said as the group walked out of the sound booth. They already had a pretty good grasp of both songs after only two hours, and James was stunned at how good and close to the originals they sounded. Now they just had to make the songs better than the originals. James smirked at the idea.<p>

'_Better than the originals… is that possible? Hell yeah it is, and we're going to do it.'_

"I told you Jamie, we're unstoppable," Jett blurted out arrogantly, his prideful grin still not having dropped the entire time they had been practicing. "We can learn any song that we put our minds to." The actor patted Carlos on the back. "And papi here sounds so much like the original singer that there's no way we can sound bad."

The tan boy beamed widely and nodded in agreement, ignoring the annoying nickname for once. James smiled sadly at his friend. After singing so passionately for so long, Carlos had almost completely lost his voice for the next day. But the tan boy was happy. They were going to sound _amazing_ at the concert, and he couldn't wait. James put a hand on his shoulder, and the Latino smiled up at him.

"Remember everyone, practice on Monday at three, if we get this down it may just be our most successful set ever."

"We got this, no sweat." Jett's smirk seemed omnipresent. James rolled his eyes, bidding most of the group farewell. Dak stepped over to join the two roommates on their walk home. James waved a greeting before turning back to his best friend.

"Ready to go home?" The tan boy nodded in response. Even though he couldn't speak without pain for the time being, he was extremely excited. In two more weeks he would be performing some of his favorite songs in front of a lot of people. And they were going to _love it_. And since the Olympics were so close to over, maybe Logan could possibly be there.

'_Don't get your hopes up Carlos,'_ he thought, but he secretly believed that fate would plan something special for him.

* * *

><p>AN: Eighteen hours in a car does wonder's for a guy's thoughts. I mean, just look at how Maize turned out (thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved, and alerted for that, it means a lot). Just for everyone to know, the OCs (Garrett, Aaron, Rachel, Jesi, and Mitch next chapter) are only in there for filler (although someone gave me the delicious idea of Garrett coming back… thanks for that, it _may_ just happen now, but no promises). I mean, seriously now, in a show with only 14 or 15 major characters you run out pretty quickly, so I have to improvise. And seriously, they're on a freaking college campus. The first people that come to mind are the people I know in real life. I know I could have used the Jennifers but it's really hard to only use 2 of them and not feel bad for the third one.

First time writing for Jett; arrogant enough for ya? And Dak… does he actually have a pre-determined personality or am I basically allowed to make him do whatever I want? I like the second one…

Next chapter is a big one. I know there's still one more Olympic event that men can compete in (Logan has 4 medals, Floor, Single Bar, Vault, and now Pommel), but Horizontal Bars is so boring in my not-so-humble opinion, so I'm just going to bounce over that subject and get on to the fun part. And the songs. Oh how I love these songs… Well, have a great night everyone.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hay guise. Sorry about not updating Dreamscape (or this for that matter) for a bit, but I'm having a hell of a time writing… you know what. I'm doing another session of Math Camp helping and now Marching Band, which means I'm at school 9 hours a day during my _summer break._ And I also now have a boyfriend taking up time in my life (and quite a bit of it actually). I hope an Olympian update can tide you all over for now.

Thank you to_ Sup3rPanda5, Crown0017, __3395233954__, LookAwaySeeTheLights, nandako671, jacobryan9, SlashLover69, Nerdy-Mochi22, JessamineLovelace, Lewkis, Sum1cooler, TidusGT, huyandhieu, Nobody Else Just Me, BadLuckGrl13, _and _duckduck4 _for all of your reviews, faves, and alerts. I should really get into the habit of actually responding to each person individually, but it's not really a good idea to try to make that decision _now_since I have even less time than before to do stuff. Oh well. On with the story!

Disclaimers: I own only the ideas and OCs that don't do much.

* * *

><p>Chapter VI<p>

Two weeks had passed by quickly for Carlos. His days went on one of three schedules: either wake up, class, practice, TV, then bed, or wake up, TV, practice, class, then bed, or finally wake up, class, TV, bed. He had watched his favorite brunet gymnast win a fifth gold medal, a straight streak, and had cried tears of joy upon seeing the expression on Logan's face after winning that last event. In the meantime, it had been practice, practice, practice for the concert. Their band sounded absolutely amazing, "better than the originals" as James had described.

It was officially the day of their concert, and Carlos peeked out from behind the large black curtain that hung in front of the semi-sturdy three-tier stage. Turning around, he nervously looked at his surroundings. James was helping Dak and Aaron tune their guitars, Jett was checking wiring, the girls were placing the tambourine, bongos, and triangle in easy to access places. The microphone was standing at Carlos' preferred height, ready and waiting for him to blast his voice through to the awaiting masses on the other side. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of the Latino's face; he was worried even though everything was looking perfect. A hand clapped onto his back, causing the tan boy to squeak in surprise, quickly whirling around to see James' smiling face.

"What're you so nervous about, buddy? This is going to go great!" Carlos simply shivered in response. James watched as another bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, growing concerned. "Hey, you aren't sick, are you?" he inquired, raising the back of his hand to his friend's head only to have it quickly slapped away.

"I'm fine, just a bit nervous," the tan boy snapped. Honestly he wasn't feeling good at all. This was their hardest set of songs that they'd ever done and he was sure that while everyone else was doing perfectly fine on their parts he was going to mess up horribly and ruin everything. The Latino knew he was going to get stage fright and throw up on stage in front of all these people, which would embarrass him beyond belief. James read the expression on the quickly paling face and frowned.

"I've seen that face before, you're worried that you're gonna mess up."

"No I'm-"

"Yes you are," James sighed, interrupting his friend. "Look, last practice you sounded absolutely phenomenal, and I'm sure that there's no way even _you_ can mess that up in only two days." The tall brunet smiled softly, rubbing Carlos' back. The Latino looked up and smiled back, trusting the same reason that his friend gave him before every concert once again. James' hand ghosted over the scar on his shoulder and the tan boy moaned happily, all doubt erased by the soothing contact, but upon noticing the unintentional noise, Carlos blushed madly, only hearing his friend laughing in response. "Now, let's get the last of everything prepared and get this party started!" James shouted, thrusting a fist into the air and smacking his roommate on the back once more. The rest of the band cheered in return, scurrying to finish tuning instruments, moving equipment, and checking connections.

Carlos beamed from ear to ear, opening his mouth to sing a few notes in preparation for his big moment of the month.

* * *

><p>"Logan, you aren't going out today," Kendall yelled, somewhat annoyed by the brunet's persistence.<p>

"But Kendall, I'm fine," the shorter boy fumed, crossing his large arms over his chest. The blond was trying to argue that the gymnast should stay home and rest, having only arrived home the night before and not having slept at all due to jetlag. Admittedly, the brunet was tired, but he wanted to go meet this Carlos Garcia person and have their intellectual talk… and possibly dinner and a movie too. "I don't feel tired at all!"

"Oh really, you don't?"

"No, I don't." The taller boy smirked, knowing exactly how to prove that Logan was lying.

"Then do ten handstand pushups for me." The gymnast's face paled and he drew in a sharp breath. The blond's demand made him immediately nervous; first of all, handstand pushups, which were normally easy for him, became extremely hard for the brunet to do once he became tired. Second, they were standing on a tile floor, and if he were to slip he'd crack his head open. Finally, if he refused, he knew that Kendall would see through his lie. Logan sighed loudly, moving toward the nearby carpeted area to sit down on his bright orange sofa.

"Fine. I'll stay home and rest. Happy now?" The blond smirked, knowing that he had won for once.

"Very. Now, just take a good nap, and while I know that it's probably a bad idea to leave you alone, I have some paperwork to fill out. I'll be back later to come check up on you. Do you need anything urgent?" The brunet was going to be snarky and say "a new manager" in response, but he just shut his mouth and shook his head. "Okay then, I'll see you in about four hours. Bye."

"Bye," the gymnast grumbled in response, watching the blond step out the door and hearing a car engine start half a minute later. Tousling his hair a little bit, Logan looked around at his familiar house from his position on the couch. He had missed it, but it wasn't where he wanted to be at the time; he wanted to be out and about, not confined to a building. He calmed a bit when the sound of a bell and quick, loud panting wafted through the house, and the gymnast watched as a little golden ball of fur scrambled down the stairs and over to him on the couch.

"Oh hi Poof," he leaned down and picked up the Pomeranian, placing her on his lap and running a hand through her fur. The little fuzzball circled a couple of times before lying down on his lap, legs disappearing under her body and still panting just as loudly as before with a happy look plastered to her face. "Oh Poof, I really wish Kendall wasn't such a spoil sport. He can be so annoying and boring sometimes." Logan threw his arms into the air and laid back on the orange fabric. "I mean, seriously, being confined to my house because of a little jetlag? Nonsense!" The dog looked up at him quizzically, cocking its head to the side and pulling its tongue back into its mouth. Logan smirked. He was talking (more like ranting) to a dog, but she was probably the best listener he knew. That's when an idea popped into the genius gymnast's brain. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked, watching as the dog's head tipped to the other side.

After whispering to his dog for another minute, he slowly stood and grabbed his jacket to put on over his red t-shirt even though it was eighty-seven degrees out. Stepping out the sliding glass door on the side of his small home by the beach, Logan took a single deep breath of the salty ocean air before walking over to his small black car. _'UCLA, here I come,'_ he thought as the engine roared to life, slipping on his favorite pair of sunglasses.

Within fifteen minutes the pale boy had managed not only reach the campus and park, but also procure a map of the institute. _'I probably broke a few traffic laws, but it was well worth it.' _He looked around the area surrounding him from his point standing outside the campus' central building, noticing the very sparse number of people in the area. To his luck none of them seemed to have recognized him yet, but Logan knew that luck wouldn't last very long and he would have people tailing him as soon as someone figured it out. Pulling the picture from his wallet, the gymnast quickly walked up to a few people to ask if they had any clue where he was, but to no avail. After nine long minutes of questioning, he finally caught a lead.

"Have you seen this person?" he asked of a short and extremely tan brunet in tight workout clothing. The man raised his sunglasses, staring at the photo for a second before Logan saw his eyes light up.

"Oh yeah, that's Carlos, he's about to start performing soon outside of the Samueli School in the science courtyard. Are you a… friend o…" the brunet's speech slowed, and he leaned in closer to Logan, who shrunk back and away from the student. The boy's blue eyes soon lit up even brighter than before from realization. "Oh my god, you're Logan Mitchell!" he shouted, but his voice was suddenly muffled by a hand over his mouth.

"Shh, please, keep it down a little," the pale boy replied as hastily and quietly as possible, removing his hand and holding the collar of his jacket up a bit higher as his face turned pink. He looked around before leaning in closer, beckoning his new acquaintance closer. "I'm kinda here against the direct order of my manager, and I'd rather not have any news crew here reporting my every action right to him." The short haired boy nodded slowly, drinking in the information that Logan had just given him. He smiled softly before beginning to whisper.

"Okay, well anyways, it's so cool to meet you, and congrats on all those gold medals. So yeah, Carlos is out at the street faire and he's about to perform with his band. I was just heading over there, so I can lead you." Logan smiled at that. People were so much nicer at UCLA compared to back at the Olympics. They actually cared if he asked for them to quiet down or leave him alone. Nodding, he started to walk next to the shorter haired boy.

"Thank you for this… Uh, I never got your name."

"Oh, the name's Mitch, probably should've told you that earlier."

"It's all good, and thank you very much for the guidance Mitch. I really appreciate it." The college student simply laughed, and Logan had to admit that this guy was kind of cute as well. But he was on a mission to meet a one Carlos Garcia, and he couldn't get distracted now.

"No, thank _you_ Mr. Mitchell. Now I can tell all of my friends that I've met an international celebrity. And would you look at that, we're here," Mitch reported, slowing to a stop as he watched Logan look around. People everywhere. He could easily get lost in the crowd here. "Well, have a good time Mr. Mitchell."

"Call me Logan." The college student's face gained a look of shock which quickly morphed into awe.

"…Cool." Mitch turned and walked off toward a different part of the area, leaving the gymnast to stare up at the large black curtain. Apparently his favorite fan was up behind there, and now he just had to wait.

* * *

><p>Carlos looked down at his list. "Final checks- James?"<p>

"Bass is tuned, amp is ready and raring. On your go," his roommate returned, watching the Latino put a check down.

"Dak and Aaron?"

"All three guitars are tuned, voices ready to back you up any time," Dak replied with a quick thumbs up. Another checkmark.

"Jett?"

"Drum kit is good, e-drums are plugged and ready to rock as well." Another checkmark.

"Jesi and Rachel?"

"Tam, triangle, and bongos are out and ready, violin and viola are tuned to perfection," Jesi said softly with a smile. Another checkmark.

"Lastly, Camille?"

"Keyboard is on and set to be easy to switch."

"Got that fancy fingerwork down?" Carlos raised an eyebrow at her, twirling his pen, and she just smirked back. Without looking down, she pressed a series of buttons and keys, playing out each noise that the electronic keyboard could make.

"Down pat, Sergeant Cheerful." She raised a two-fingered salute to the tan boy, and he chuckled at the creative use of her nickname as he wrote down one last checkmark. The Latino beamed widely, looking down at the list. Checks all the way down, in every spot except the last one.

'_Microphone? Check,' _Carlos thought, happily placing down the final mark. He turned his head up to his friends, all of who were looking at him apprehensively. Tossing the list off to the side, the tan boy stepped behind the microphone before turning to face the group. "Let's fuckin' kill this bitch," he laughed, giving everyone the final thumbs up. James, Dak, and Aaron heaved on their bass and guitars respectively, Jett sat down at the kit, Camille took her place by the piano, and Jesi and Rachel took their spots behind the percussion table. The Latino smiled into the microphone, watching the fabric in front of him rise before closing his eyes and leaning against the plastic microphone stand. _'Ready, set, go.'_

* * *

><p>Logan stood right up against the front fence that kept the crowd from storming the stage. From his vantage point, he heard the brunt of the noise that came from the somewhat small cheering crowd behind him as the large black curtain opened. He watched as the tall brunet in the back started drumming the opening to the first song, others slowly joining in. He looked to Carlos, seeing the Latino leaning against the microphone with his eyes closed and a smile on his lips. Within seconds, the smile disappeared, the brown orbs opened wide, and a velvety voice floated from the speakers as the boy opened his mouth.<p>

"_I remember the better days_

_Way before this mess we made._

_You were the keys to the car_

_Now I'm just trying to make it start._

_Can't you see these highs and lows_

_Take us down and slowly take their toll?_

_Misguided, I don't know_

_Where we're headed._

_Tell me now, cause_

_Round, round and round we go._

_And when it stops_

_You say you don't know._

_But each time I try to stop this ride_

_You say it's not time._

_This heart,_

_My dreams,_

_I've been taken down too far it seems._

_So hold tight._

_Why not let me go?_

_Why not let me go?"_

Logan watched and listened as the other backup voices of the Latino's friends melted into the voice of his tan fan up on stage, harmonizing perfectly. He heard each beautiful echo from every instrument, the two guitars, the bass, and the keyboard all perfectly in tune with each other and the voices.

"_So much I need to say_

_Then the truth gets in the way._

_You cry me another one_

_And watch my words just come undone._

_Can't you see these lows and highs_

_Tangled up separating all our ties?_

_Misguided I can't find_

_A way back in so_

_Maybe its goodbye._

_Round, round and round we go._

_And when it stops_

_You say you don't know._

_But each time I try to stop this ride_

_You say it's not time._

_This heart,_

_My dreams,_

_I've been taken down too far it seems._

_So hold tight._

_Why not let me go?_

_Why not let me go?_

_When the bottom drops out,_

_Then you think you got nowhere to go (in the cold)._

_But if you take a look around,_

_You could really warm it up and you know (always told you so)._

Logan watched on in awe as everyone on stage worked masterfully around their instrument. Both of the guitarists were heavily absorbed by their riffs, but they still knew when to bring their heads up to sing in for backup. The tall brunet with the bass made long and simple strokes across the strings, eyes shut and lightly fluttering, and the two girls behind him danced back and forth to the beat with tambourine and bongos in hand. The girl behind the keyboard made all of the quick finger movements look easy as her hand magically waved over the keys, and the drummer behind her had sweat pouring down the sides of his head as he pounded on the kit. Last but not least was Carlos, both hands clasped to the microphone, eyes closed tight and body shivering with every heavy breath as he sang his heart out.

_Round, round and round we go._

_And when it stops_

_You say you don't know._

_But each time I try to stop this ride_

_You say it's not time._

_This heart,_

_My dreams,_

_I've been taken down too far it seems._

_So hold tight._

_Why not let me go?_

_Why not let me go?_

_Round, round and round we go._

_When it stops_

_You say you don't know._

_Why not let me go?_

_Why not let me go?_

_Why not let me go?_

_Why not let me go? Yea,_

_Why not let me go?_

With a last resounding note, the song ended, and cheers erupted from the people watching. The Latino on stage leaned forward to place his hands on his knees, panting heavily a couple times before yelling a quick "thank you" and something along the lines of "we'll be back later" into the microphone. Logan heard the crowd burst into chatter and the clopping of heavy footsteps on cement as they dispersed, and knew that now was his time to go talk to Carlos. Dodging past a few people to get out, he ran around to the back of the stage and waited for the door to open.

* * *

><p>"That was amazing!" Carlos screamed. His throat hurt a bit from singing still, but he ignored the pain, running straight to James and pulling his roommate into a crushing hug. The brunet simply laughed loudly as he was lifted off the ground by the overjoyed Latino. The tan boy spun in a couple circles before placing his friend back on the ground and running to congratulate everyone else. A hug for each of the girls, a high five for Dak and Aaron, and a "Dude, you're really freaking sweaty," for Jett, who just scowled back before walking out the back stage door to grab some water.<p>

Carlos continued to chat up a storm, ignoring James trying to pull him off to get some water and refresh his voice for the next song that would be going on in less than half an hour. The only thing he didn't ignore was Jett calling him.

"Ay papi, some dude is here to see you," the actor yelled out from the stage door. The tan boy glared over at him, seeing the ever-present smirk stuck to the drama major's face.

"Well, who the hell is it?"

"Some guy named Logan." Carlos' eyes widened and he stared in disbelief at James when the answer came back. The tall brunet returned the look, but shook it away quickly and motioned for him to move toward the exit. Shocked, the Latino slowly started over toward the stage door.

* * *

><p>AN: Ooh, I feel mean, cliffhanger-ish thing right where you want to read more. But the actual meeting is for next chapter. I'm so devious, but not really all that devious.

Anyways, the song is "Let Me Go" by David Archuleta, which is currently one of my favorite songs and is one of the 50 that got me through a whole week with little to do in Maine, and the other song that is either in next chapter or the one after is also on that list (and is also by David… hope nobody really hates him or I guess I'd lose a couple of readers; they're just songs I like and I think his voice and Carlos' match pretty closely so I can imagine "Mr. Cheerful" singing them).

Hope you all liked the chapter, please review because as always it means a lot to me to get feedback. I'll try to be more… productive… with Dreamscape, but I realized that sex isn't easy for me to write… I admire people who can write it well, kudos to you all. So, have a good one, and I'll see you next time!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Good news everyone, I'm not dead, and neither are these stories. I've just been too tired to write for Olympian and too frustrated to write for Dreamscape. Plus I've been annoyingly busy with marching band season and school starting in less than a week (got me some post-Calculus BC math with a teacher who hates me, fun).

Anyways, enough of the negative. Thank you to _GLJ4, hellfirehalo188, H Koutalidou Aligizaki, Jessamine Lovelace, LessThanThree333, OrangeTrufflex, Edward Changed Me, duckduck4, TidusGT, BadLuckGrl13, Sum1cooler, Lewkis, rosaxD114, Big Time Pokefan, Kogan4ever, _and_ MyWonderland209_ for your reviews, faves, and alerts. They all mean a lot, and it makes me beyond happy to see that my little listings get a little longer with every chapter (although that's partially because this took me so fucking long to write…).

Before I start, if you don't know what _astral projection_ is, I'd encourage you to look it up now so that you don't get confused when it comes up. So now for the part that you've waited more than a week (or 2 even, I've lost track) for: story time!

* * *

><p>Chapter VII<p>

Carlos stared at the stage door. On the other side was possibly the best gymnast in the world and the guy he had an insane crush on. Or it could just be some regular old other guy named Logan; that was still a possibility too. He shook off that thought though. Logan Mitchell had said on live international television that he might go to meet this "Carlos Garcia", and there was a high probability that this was the exact same Logan. The tan boy placed a hand on the door handle, pushing it slowly downward.

Taking a peek across the threshold, he still couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the short yet muscular brunet standing on the other side even though he expected that exact person. The pale boy was whistling softly, and Carlos could easily understand the melody coming out; it was the song they had just performed. Swallowing hard, he pushed the door open a little wider, causing Logan to turn toward him. Eyes locked, and they stared at each other for a couple of seconds before the gymnast reached out a hand for a shake.

"Carlos Garcia?" he asked calmly, an adorable half-smile etched across his features. The Latino just responded by opening and closing his mouth repeatedly like a fish, pointing a finger at Logan in apparent disbelief. The gymnast simply watched with slight amusement for a couple minutes before frowning and waving his outstretched hand in front of the other's eyes. "Yoo-hoo, anyone in there?" Logan knocked gently on the side of his head a few times, the Latino finally regaining control of his body after the third knock and beginning to blurt out words and stutter fractured sentences. His hands flailed back and forth as he began to point between the two of them, finger shaking from nervousness.

"Oh, uh, yeah… I… you… of course… I-I am here! Don't be silly! Why wouldn't _I_ be here?" Words fell haphazardly from the tan boy's mouth, and Logan chuckled as the boy in front of him tried to regain his composure. A few more seconds of incoherent babble passed through Carlos' lips before he finally finished a full thought. "I mean, the real question is are you _actually _here?" The taller boy tipped his head a bit to the side, donning a confused expression.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Y'know, like this could just be some sort of astral projection or hologram of Logan Mitchell that I'm talking to. Or it could even be a robot!" Carlos replied, watching as Logan raised an eyebrow at him. "What, it happens in comic books and video games and movies! How am I supposed to know that this isn't the same thing?"

"Well, you could reach out and touch me of course," the gymnast returned with a small laugh and roll of the eyes, shaking his head. Carlos bit his lower lip, attempting to keep blood from rushing to his face (and his crotch) from the statement and keeping his hands glued to the sides of his body. Upon noticing how hesitant the Latino was being, Logan grabbed his wrist and slowly brought the hand up to touch his chest, placing the tan skin down right over his heart. The taller boy's eyes traced back to Carlos' face, seeing and enjoying the cute look of shock and awe that adorned the raven-haired boy's features. Carlos could feel Logan's slow heartbeat pulsing underneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt and the thick muscle of his chest, and it took all of his willpower not to just explode into a mass of unbounded energy and gushing and 'oh my god you're so hot', among other things. He just knew one of those things was going to slip out and Logan would _hate _that.

The pulse also made it very obvious that this was _not _in fact a hologram. Or an astral projection. Or even a robot. It was the real Logan Mitchell standing in front of him.

A few minutes of silence passed, Carlos' hand still resting against Logan's chest. The only thing the gymnast did was attempt to concentrate on breathing and let the feelings sink in for his new acquaintance. The only thing the Latino did was attempt to keep his emotions in check. Both started to feel the awkward air enveloping them, and Carlos was quick to remove his hand once he noticed it.

"Sorry about that, it's just…" he trailed off, unable to think of an excuse for why he was basically groping the other boy. At least, no excuse other than 'I like touching you', which would probably just serve to make things even more awkward than they already were. "Oh my god, you're so hot…" The tan boy whispered under his breath, face paling then turning redder when he realized what he had said. _'There's the slip.'_

The gymnast simply laughed again (Carlos' knees went weak at the sound), crossing his arms across his front. "It's all cool, dude. You have no idea how many people at the Olympics did exactly that." That was a lie. Logan never let anyone at the Olympics touch him like that. Hell, he never let anyone touch him like that _period _(other than doctors and officials that is), not even Jo or Kendall_._ All they got were hugs at most, and they had known him for years. There was just something special about this one college student that made the gymnast open up for some reason; whatever that reason was, he liked it. "So, great job up there, you all sounded amazing." Carlos tried but failed to stop the raging blush that came to his face. Had this been _any _other person praising him he'd just give a quick 'thank you' then be on his way, but this was something different. He needed a response worthy of Logan Mitchell… was there such a thing?

"Um, wow… I don't know what to say…"

"You could say 'thank you'." The Latino sighed in response.

"I know, but… you have no idea what a compliment from you means to me." It was Logan's turn to blush at that statement, the gymnast shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Sorry, that was a little creepy and gushy, wasn't it?"

"Just a bit. Now, how about sitting down for a little while? I bet all that singing made you tired." The pale boy motioned toward a nearby bench, and Carlos happily followed him over, sitting down next to his favorite athlete. Logan placed his arms to either side of his body, leaning back a bit and turning his head to look at the boy sitting next to him as Carlos asked the first question on his mind.

"Why are you here of all places? I mean, aren't you famous? Not that I don't want you here, just… why here and now?"

"I decided to come over here for our little 'intellectual talk'," came the reply, a loud yawn punctuating the statement. "I haven't had one of those for a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah, all of the other athletes either had a head full of sand or didn't speak English," Logan chuckled, watching as Carlos blushed once again upon hearing the sound. He laughed back to the brunet.

"Oh, right…" His voice trailed off. Logan was quick to change the subject after that response, sensing an oncoming awkward silence if that same conversation were to continue.

"So, as I said before, that was a really great performance that you and your friends put on. You're all very talented."

"Thanks."

Sadly, the subject change didn't manage to allow the two to avoid that silence. Seconds passed. Then minutes. The two just sat quietly. Logan looked to the sky, trying to come up with more discussion topics as Carlos stared at the ground, still trying hard to keep himself from gushing… too much.

"So why exactly are you guys putting on this concert?" Logan broke the silence with the best question he could think up.

"Oh y'know… for fun…draising. See what I did there?" The gymnast's eyebrow tipped up when he saw the joking expression that the boy sitting next to him was wearing. Carlos' little quirks were amusing… and cute.

"What for?" The Latino turned to fully face him.

"My friend James. He was the one playing the bass for that song. Since he's a music major he's trying to get his name out there, so we're attempting to buy time at clubs and bars and other places, but we don't exactly have much money. This is really the most cost effective thing that we can do since everything belongs to Mr. Rocque and is essentially free."

"Mr. Rocque?"

"Music teacher."

"Ah." Logan yawned again, lips forming into a smirk afterwards. He was damn tired, but this conversation meant too much to him to end now because of sleep deprivation. "So let me get this straight. This entire concert is just a large scale busking operation?" Carlos paused to think for a second, staring the smiling gymnast right in his brown eyes. Running the thought over in his head, he realized that they really were doing just what Logan had said, placing a hand on his forehead and sighing.

"I guess that you could say that."

The two continued to talk for a short time, the conversation flowing smoothly from the performance to interests, from interests to video games, from video games to TV shows, and from TV shows to food. Or at least, only kind of smoothly since the two had their share of silences in between each subject. The food topic sprouted the restaurant topic, which easily caught a large amount of attention. Carlos swore that the brunet sitting next to him was asking him on a date as soon as the sentence "So do you know any good restaurants around here?" came out of his mouth. Or at least, he _really _hoped that it was a date invitation. That thought made him cry from joy internally, but he just showed a smile on the outside.

"Well, there's an area called Westwood only about 10 minutes away, and that has a bunch of restaurants. If you want, I could show you around after we're done with our second song," the Latino offered, seeing the gymnast smile back and nod.

"Sounds great to me, and I can't wait to hear you guys go again. You had better get back, I bet they're wondering where you went."

"Right. Well, it was nice talking to you Mr. Mitchell, and—"

"Logan."

"…what?"

"Call me Logan, not Mr. Mitchell. That's too professional for my tastes." Carlos blushed heavily at that. He didn't think that someone so… famous… would be comfortable with everyone just calling him by his first name. So he let that news anchor do it too, but it's not like she was some random college student in Los Angeles.

"Okay… Logan… I guess I'll talk to you again in about 20 minutes." Logan put on his now signature half-smile, waving to the Latino as he disappeared through the stage door once more. So he had asked Carlos on a date, and the boy had accepted. Lucky him, he had a dinner date for the first time ever with someone he genuinely liked. Now he just had to hope that he could spend as much time with his date as possible before falling asleep or having to race home to meet Kendall.

The gymnast sighed. Kendall. Hopefully his manager hadn't yet come back to the small beach house and found it empty except for one very easily excitable dog. If he had, he'd be beyond mad. But if he hadn't, the blond never needed to find out. Yawning once more, the gymnast stood and walked back around toward the front of the stage, hoping to witness another wonderful performance from the boy he now considered his number one fan.

* * *

><p>Kendall walked into his small apartment, exhausted from his day so far and sighing as he placed down his briefcase and threw his keys down on the counter nearby. He took a deep breath, the familiar scent of his home's not-so-fresh air greeting him and calming him down. Stalking over to the small armchair in front of his television, he turned the device on to find a Minnesota Wild game on, and he smiled as he watched the large men on screen crush each other to the walls. TV always helped him fall asleep. Eyelids drooped, and he began to slip off into unconsciousness, thinking about the past few hours.<p>

The blond had no doubts that Logan "snuck out" as soon as he left; the gymnast was probably headed to UCLA to find that Carlos kid. Kendall definitely shouldn't have left him alone, but the manager was sleepy from jetlag, he had paperwork to do, and he had just gotten tired of the brunet's whining about the subject. All morning it had been "But Kendall, I feel fine" even though the blond knew that Logan was not awake enough to really do anything by himself, and Logan was stubborn so he wouldn't ask for help or anything like that.

That's when a wave of fear washed over Kendall, all semblance of fatigue disappearing. Logan's house was at least 10 minutes away from UCLA, meaning that the gymnast had to drive to get there. And driving after having not slept for 27 hours usually didn't turn out so well. The blond was running on 4 hours of forced sleep from the plane ride home, but at least that allowed him to function almost completely. "Ugh, for a guy with such a big brain he's such an idiot sometimes," he muttered quietly to himself as he grabbed his keys from the counter once again and literally ran out to his car. Shoving the key in the ignition, he sighed loudly. _'__UCLA, here I come,'_ he thought as the engine roared to life, slowly backing the car out and heading to the highway.

* * *

><p>The stage door swung open and shut, everyone turning to look at the flushed Latino as he re-entered the area. The tips of Jett's mouth turned upward in a cynical smirk.<p>

"What, is your boyfriend here papi?" The brunet laughed loudly for a short time before seeing the death glare that James was shooting him. "It was a fucking _joke_, jeez. Don't get your panties in a knot, pretty boy."

"Jett, why don't you go check wiring? Don't want those e-drums messing up while we play." Hazel eyes stared him down, the statement being more of an order than a question. The actor's smirk faded as he turned and stepped up a few risers to go over his wiring job for what was probably the fifth time. Meanwhile, James turned to the others, waving them off to do their own jobs for setup of the second song as he walked toward Carlos. He leaned down to be on level with the Latino's eyes. "So?"

"…so what?" The taller boy sighed, standing back up to full height.

"You know what I'm talking about! So was it _him_?"

"Was it who?" James put a hand to his forehead, taking a deep breath. His roommate was definitely just playing dumb this time, there was no way he couldn't know what they were talking about.

"Stop being an idiot. What happened out there?" The tan boy stayed silent for a few seconds before launching into a detailed description of how he had just met Logan Mitchell, and how they had talked, and how it was awkward because Carlos kept having to control his gushing, and how Logan was ridiculously hot, and how… the list just went on and on, the brunet trying to follow the rapidly speaking Latino's thought pattern. Eventually the effort became too much and James clapped his hand over Carlos' mouth.

"Okay, that's enough detail of that. We gotta get ready to play again, did you get anything to drink while you were out there?"

"I was supposed to?" James groaned loudly. Scratch the idea that he didn't think that the Latino could possibly be too dumb. Placing his hands on the shorter boy's shoulders, James stared down at him.

"Just grab a water bottle from the bin _right outside the door._ Take a few gulps and then you need to start warming up, we go on in ten." The tan boy nodded.

"Right."

"And don't be nervous, you sounded great for the first song, you'll sound great for this one, and Mr. Mitchell is—"

"Logan." James quickly grew confused by the interruption.

"…what?"

"He said call him Logan, he doesn't like being called 'Mr. Mitchell."

"O…kay. So _Logan_ is going to enjoy it thoroughly. Now, go get some water and then get ready to 'fucking kill this bitch,' as you phrase it." Carlos smiled.

"Sure thing."

* * *

><p>AN: So I'm sure you all hate me for making you wait this long for an update. I just want to let you know I'm sorry for this being so late and I'm furious with myself about how Dreamscape is going. I suck at writing sex. I'm great with the cuddling and the kissing and all that because me and my boyfriend are really involved with that, but sex isn't something that I know at all, and reading it somehow isn't helping with writing it.

Anyways, off that subject. I really hope that this isn't crappy or too short because it seems like it to me. Anyways, please review, I'm working overtime on Dreamscape for you all and I'll try to have the next chapter of this up sometime this week or next weekend. Till next time (which hopefully isn't as far away as this time was), have a great one everybody!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: So yeah, contrary to the author's note at the beginning of last chapter, I think I may be dying (not really, I'm just being melodramatic). God damn do I feel sick, I collapsed on the field during Marching Band practice and basically made a complete fool of myself. At least I'm getting more time to write since I'm staying home from school and I don't want boyfriend to get sick too so I'm quarantining myself. Hopefully David Archuleta, Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, BTR, and P!nk can heal me.

Thank-yous are at the bottom to keep this note from overwhelming the page since the disclaimer is so big.

Disclaimer- I own nothing except the ideas and OCs, the lyrics belong to their respective artists and the characters belong to whoever was awesome enough to create the show (I don't remember the name of the producer :P). Also, no, they aren't performing "Funhouse"; it's just a little song cameo, even though I _love_ that song (mostly it's because I already chose a song for this, but also partially because I don't think Carlos can sing like P!nk since she's a girl and he isn't). Now, on with the show!

* * *

><p>Chapter VIII<p>

"_This used to be a Funhouse,_

_but now it's full of evil clowns._

_It's time to start the countdown._

_I'm gonna burn it down, down, down._

_I'm gonna burn it down."_

"Carlos, could you _please _choose a different song to warm up on," James complained as he attempted to tune his bass for the fourth time. One of the strings sounded bad every time he strummed and it was seriously bugging him. "You know how much I hate that demon of a woman." Carlos scowled over at the brunet.

"You're the one who told me to warm up my mid-high register more, so that's why I chose P!nk. I say it's your fault that you're miserable right now. Also how could it possibly take you so long to tune that thing?"

"Shut it." James just sighed and twisted the last knob at the top of his instrument before plucking a few notes. He smiled when each and every one was finally exactly in tune, looking back over to the now humming Latino who was swaying slowly back and forth a few feet away with an annoyed pout on his face. Taking a quick glance around, the tall boy took in his surroundings. Rachel and Jesi were playing some weird game that James always referred to as 'the patty-cake game' (even though the girls adamantly insisted it was called 'Slide' or something like that), Dak and Aaron were playing rock-paper-scissors while chatting about some soccer thing, and Camille and Jett were standing near the speakers arguing noisily about where the keyboard and the e-drums should be plugged in. James cleared his throat loudly, gaining some attention and attempting to be heard over the two actors.

"Three minutes to showtime guys and gals, is everything good to go?"

"Both the electric and acoustic guitars are tuned," Dak replied without turning away from the game. "Ha! Rock crushes scissors!" James rolled his eyes and turned in time to hear Rachel speak.

"We tuned the violin and viola before we even played the first song, I'm pretty sure they haven't changed," she said somewhat softly, James straining to hear her and Jesi nodding in agreement. The pretty boy turned to look at Camille and Jett. The two were attempting to keep their yells just below maximum volume, but their argument was almost keeping him from hearing anything below a yell and could probably be heard on the other side of the curtain. James looked over to Carlos, who just shrugged in response before walking over to the two bickering actors.

"I didn't fucking unplug your goddamn keyboard to make room for my drums, it was an accident!" Jett snapped at her. "I just accidentally stepped on the goddamn cord and it came out, and when I tried to plug it back in you fucking accused me!" The actress scoffed, waving her hand as if dismissing the possibility.

"Yeah, right, like I'd really believe that, you lying egotistical bastard," Camille spat right back. The Latino made a small noise to gain their attention, but squeaked and shrunk back when they both glared and screamed the word 'what' in his face. The angry looks they gave him were intimidating, but he quickly regained his composure, standing up straight and yelling back at them.

"Hey, how about you both _shut the hell up _and just plug things back together? Get ready to play _now_, we have like two minutes till we go on." The two stared at him, somewhat stunned by his sudden commanding tone, but they soon followed the order and went right back to their spots after Jett put the plug back in the side of the speaker. As the tan boy hopped back down the risers, James clapped a hand on his shoulder, hand rubbing reassuringly over his shoulder blade and scar. Blushing heavily when an unintentional sigh of happiness left his lips, Carlos whipped around to see his roommate smirking widely at his embarrassment. "Stop doing that."

"Sorry, but it's so much fun to see your reaction. Now get up to that microphone and sing your heart out for Mr. Mi- um, Logan, dude." The tan boy nodded, taking one last quick swig of water from the bottle in his hand before chucking it over his shoulder and stepping toward the plastic stand that held his microphone. He smiled widely, turning back to face the rest of the group, seeing the water bottle land on the floor next to Aaron. James had his bass, Dak and Aaron were putting on their guitars. Jesi and Rachel stood with their viola and violin ready, the shorter girl rubbing a bit of dust off as the other played a few warm up notes. Jett and Camille were at their respective spots, Jett's angered gaze boring into the back of the brunette's head. Carlos sighed, and then held a thumbs up to all of them.

"Same as last time- let's fuckin' kill this bitch."

* * *

><p>All Logan could think about at the moment was Carlos, the upcoming song, and the fact that he was ridiculously thirsty. The gymnast was standing in a long line at a concession stand, hoping to buy a water bottle before the band went back on, but that hope was diminishing as the line crawled on seemingly indefinitely. It would be a great place to use his fame to his advantage to cut to the front of the line and get a free water bottle or two, but he couldn't possibly reveal himself to the people, the paparazzi, and consequently his manager. The line wasn't going anywhere, and Logan just knew that his favorite fan was going to be going on any second.<p>

'_Ugh, why wasn't I smart enough to grab one of the ones sitting behind the stage, I'm sure they wouldn't have minded,' _he thought, placing a hand to his temples in frustration and stepping out of the unmoving, never-ending line. The brunet went to sit down on a nearby bench, but he was stopped upon hearing the loud jumble of conversations stop and cheers start, looking up to see the curtain moving once more, Carlos' figure standing at the front once more. Quickly standing, he began to swiftly walk toward the front in order to take the same spot that he had been in before: right up against the fence. The Latino on stage shouted a few words back behind him before stepping toward the microphone.

"Thank you everyone for your support, please remember to help our little cause of getting James to Hollywood and out of here forever." He laughed into the microphone as he motioned to the now annoyed looking bass player, the small crowd laughing along with him. "Now, time to get this rolling!" he yelled, closing his eyes and leaning on the microphone just as he had with the last song, a few people in the audience cheering and clapping. The girl at the keyboard looked toward the boy now known as James, who just nodded, and she placed her hands down on the keys, starting them off. She was quickly joined by the brunet at the back, who for some reason wouldn't stop staring at her with burning eyes as his drumsticks were brought down heavily onto the electric kit in front of him. Carlos just softly sung the word "desperate" into the microphone twice, eyes shut tight, launching into the song a few moments afterward.

"_You're reachin' out,_

_and no one hears your cry._

_You're freakin' out again_

_'cause all your fears remind you._

_Another dream has come undone._

_You feel so small and lost like you're the only one._

_You wanna scream,_

_'cause you're desperate._

_You want somebody, just anybody,_

_to lay their hands on your soul tonight._

_You want a reason to keep believin'_

_that some day you're gonna see the light..._

_You're in the dark,_

_there's no one left to call._

_And sleep's you're only friend,_

_but even sleep can't hide you_

_from all those tears and all the pain_

_and all the days you wasted pushin' them away._

_It's your life; it's time you face it._

_You want somebody, just anybody,_

_to lay their hands on your soul tonight._

_You want a reason to keep believin'_

_that some day you're gonna see the light..._

_'Cause you're desperate, desperate._

_'Cause you're desperate now..."_

Logan was once again mesmerized by Carlos' voice and the sound and blend of the music, but he noticed the boy's eyes were actually open and scanning out over the crowd as if looking for something, Logan eventually realizing that the deep brown orbs were searching for him. The gymnast waved from his position against the fence, the Latino looking down and smiling widely upon noticing the movement, then closing his eyes once more, his voice becoming louder.

"_You know the things have gotta change._

_You can't go back, you find a way._

_And day by day, you start to come alive._

_You want somebody, just anybody,_

_to bring some peace to your soul tonight._

_You want a reason to keep believin'_

_that some day you're gonna see the light..._

_You want somebody, just anybody,_

_to lay their hands on your soul tonight._

_You want a reason to keep believin'_

_that some day you're gonna see the light..._

_'Cause you're desperate, desperate._

_'Cause you're desperate tonight._

_Oh, desperate... So desperate tonight,_

_Tonight..."_

The song slowly drew to a close, the tan boy quietly singing the word "desperate" twice more into the device in front of him before finishing. The crowd clapped and cheered as the boy leaned forward, hands on his knees, head turning to look at Logan. The gymnast smiled widely and gave him a thumbs up before turning and walking toward the side of the stage, intent on personally congratulating the band (mostly Carlos) on another fantastic job. He heard the Latino yell another quick thank you into the microphone as he rounded the corner, seeing the large curtain begin to move back in front of the stage.

* * *

><p>As soon as the curtain was closed, Carlos turned back to the group, James walking over and placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. Carlos shrugged the hand off before James was able to embarrass him again. "Well, that's all folks, another great job. Now we just have to get ready for two months from now." Most of the group just laughed at the statement, all turning upon hearing Jett groan loudly.<p>

"Why can't pretty boy just advertise for himself? It's not like you're going to get famous any more easily this way than I will by having the lead role in _Dracula _this fall anyways." James frowned.

"Oh shut it Jett, you know you love playing drums."

"Oh, I do love playing them, just not for your benefit and not mine, Mr. Music Major."

Carlos sighed, but his eyes lit up when he heard the stage door make a clicking sound. Turning to face the stage entrance, he watched as Logan cautiously slipped through carrying a couple bottles of water. He smiled and walked over, handing one of the bottles to Carlos, who quickly unscrewed the cap and took a drink. The collar of the brunet's shirt was raised up higher than before; he was obviously trying to avoid being seen by everyone on stage, but Jett quickly foiled that plan.

"Oh look, papi's boyfriend is back," the actor sneered as he wrapped a cord around his arm and walked over. "Thanks for the water bottle, dude," he said as he grabbed the object out of Logan's hand and walked away, a look of confusion and shock left on Logan's face that was quickly replaced with annoyance. Logan was thirsty, that's why he had waited in that stupid line for forever, and he still hadn't gotten anything to drink.

"Jett, seriously?" James yelled angrily at him, balling his fists and baring his teeth, but Carlos stopped him from going over and punching the living daylights out of the drummer. The tall boy looked down at his friend. "Carlos, seriously, that's kinda crossing the line."

"Don't worry about it James, Logan can just share mine," the tan boy replied, offering the plastic in his hand to the gymnast. The annoyed pout left as he gratefully took the bottle out of Carlos' outstretched hand, taking a quick sip and handing it back with a soft "thank you". The tan boy just waved it back, handing him the bottle cap in the process, Logan retracting the offer and screwing the cap back on.

"So Carlos," a female voice said curiously from off to the side, "who's your friend here?" The three turned to see Camille standing behind Logan, trying to look around his raised collar. The girl's jaw dropped and her finger rose to point when she saw the gymmnast, the pale boy becoming even paler than before. "_Oh my god_, it's Logan Mitchell!" she shouted, the other two girls rushing over and beginning to giggle uncontrollably. Dak and Aaron had also made their way over upon the actress' outburst. The three girls were squealing and pestering Logan with questions, forcing him to back up a few steps as they got closer and closer. His hands and water bottle went up in front of his body defensively as if he thought they were going to jump on him.

"Ohmygosh, is this real?"

"Where are you living now?

"How do you make your hair do that?"

"What's it like at the Olympic arena?"

"Are you going to be competing again soon?"

"Can I feel your biceps?"

"What was it like in Europe? Were all the guys really hot like in the movies?"

"Do you like my makeup? I did it up all special for the concert!"

"Do you know Jo Taylor? She's _so_ pretty!"

Carlos stepped in between them and Logan with a frown on his face." Please, he just wants to be left alone, I'll fill you all in on details later, we have a date to get to." the Latino ordered, his tone stern. Camille did a quick double take.

"A date? Now? But-"

"Later." All three girls crossed their arms and walked away in a huff, reminding Carlos of the Jennifers. Dak, Aaron, and James watched on, perplexed. Carlos smirked and turned back to Logan, who had a nervous look on his face. "It's all cool now. Ready to go for some food?" The nervous look disappeared, replaced with a wide smile.

"Definitely. And how about we have an actual intellectual talk instead of an awkward one this time?"

"Deal." The tan boy turned to yell to his roommate about where they were going, when they would be back, and all that, taking the gymnast's wrist in his hand and pulling him out the stage door. Aaron crossed his arms over his chest, looking annoyed

"Man, why does he get all the girls?" Dak turned to look at him, his face acquiring what could only be described by James as confusion and a bit of hurt.

"It's because he's an international celebrity, Aaron. Isn't that reason enough?"

'"And since when does Carlos go out with a smoking hot international celebrity?" Dak asked. Now Aaron turned and raised an eyebrow at Dak, who stared right back. James got a little confused, but then just smirked to his fellow music major.

"Apparently since today."

* * *

><p>AN: And yay, the second song chapter is done! I like this chapter, even though I may be sick right now and I don't think my writing is quite up to maximum strength. Also, still working on that Dreamscape chapter… that may be what's killing me. The song was "Desperate" by David Archuleta ([sarcasm] I bet you all weren't suspecting that to be the name [/sarcasm]).

I'm doing all my thank-yous here since I didn't want the top note to be huge. Thank you to _Lewkis, duckduck4, Ahmazingly-Weird, narutopowerman, bubzchoc, LittleGirlVixen, JessamineLovelace, TidusGT, LessThanThree333, Edward Changed Me, Sum1cooler, Nerdy-Mochi22, Tigers257, MaddyB3, _and _BTRMegaFan_ for your reviews, faves, and alerts, they mean a ton as always.

So, next chapter is the date chapter, then more development, fun fun. Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you next chapter. Have a great one!


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hey everyone, thanks for being patient with me. School is hard, marching band is demanding, I'm barely getting enough sleep, and I've recently rediscovered my love of sitting and doing nothing.

Thanks you to _AdmCpj, Edward Changed Me, Lewkis, Sum1cooler, Nerdy-Mochi22, duckduck4, OrangeTrufflex, huyandhieu, Tigers257, TidusGT, squoctobird, bubzchoc, KianaRia, _and_ CDKLJ2345 _for your reviews, alerts, and faves of this story, and everyone else who read "It's Not the Dark". It all means a lot.

Now, as for the reason that I published a little one-shot over this last week… I had writer's block for this, and that was a little bit more of a pressing issue to me at the time. And it was easier to write too. Oh well. Time to get going.

* * *

><p>Chapter IX<p>

It had been quite a while since Logan last had a conversation like the one he was having now.

"I'm telling you Logan, the possibility for transhumanism and possibly posthumanism could be coming around in our lifetimes." His Latino acquaintance stomped his foot on the ground as they walked toward a strip of shops in the Westwood Village. The two had been walking for about fifteen minutes, searching for food in the large shopping center-type area. The brunet raised an eyebrow.

"Carlos, our technology isn't even near that point yet. Hell, prosthetic limbs and pacemakers may be powerful, but it's not like we've developed those mythical 'brain linked internet' chips that everyone hopes to have soon. For the time being, we're human, and nothing more." Logan watched as his new friend's lips turned downward.

"You aren't listening to me, I'm talking about in the future, not right now! I mean, it happens in comics and video games."

"Yes, but it isn't going to happen anytime in the really near future. Think about it, a transhuman society would require so much more technology than we have even remotely planned for the next twenty years. Also, this is real life, not a comic book or video game where you can say anything will happen anytime." Carlos sighed. The gymnast had a point, but Carlos was stubborn. He didn't want to lose this little argument, but it was pretty obvious that he wasn't going to win. That meant it was time for a change of subject.

"So do you like Italian food?" Logan smirked. He totally just won that… whatever it was. It wasn't really an argument to him, since the Latino never really had a viable point in the first place; it was just a conversation that happened to turn a bit annoying.

"Well, I do really like pizza, but-" The tan boy smiled widely at the simple statement, cutting Logan off by grabbing his wrist and pulling him quickly forward. The brunet's breath hitched and he coughed loudly as the sudden increase in speed knocked the wind out of him. "Carlos, where are we going?" he asked frantically, attempting to keep the other boy from pulling him off his feet. Carlos certainly had a lot of enthusiasm… Logan liked that. It was cute.

"Pizza!" the Latino returned, flashing a bright white smile back to his companion before turning his head back forward to make sure that he didn't run into anything. The two boys continued down the main street of Westwood Village before hanging a left turn on a different road. Shortly after turning, the two stopped outside a small shop, a red picture of a very jolly looking chef sitting on the words "Italian Express" painted onto the window. Carlos turned his head to look at Logan again, the brunet concentrating on a menu in the window.

The tan boy took that time to scan over the Adonis standing before him. Perfectly sculpted muscle covered the pale boy's entire body, from head to toe. _'What I wouldn't give for a hug from him… he'd probably split me in half.' _Carlos' eyes made their way up and down Logan's body repeatedly, stopping occasionally to stare at different spots for extended periods of time. They went from his massive arms, down to his legs, back up to the chest, then down to his crotch (he blushed when he noticed that he was staring there), finally moving to stare at his face. The look of concentration on Logan's face made Carlos smile, it was a cute expression on an already adorable face that was now turning to look at him. He watched Logan's mouth move for a couple of seconds before giving a simple (but satisfied) smile to the gymnast.

"…well?" Logan asked him. Carlos shook his head. Logan had been talking to him there at the end, but he had been too enthralled by the boy to notice.

"Huh?"

"Do you want to eat here? I mean, I like pizza and all, but if you don't then we can always go somewhere else." The Latino quickly shook his head, slapping himself mentally for not paying attention.

"Logan, I'm like a garbage disposal when it comes to food. I'll eat anything." The gymnast smiled in response, and Carlos admired the cute little dimples that suddenly showed. _'Huh, never noticed those before… he just gets better and better!' _Snapping out of his thoughts of how perfect Logan was, Carlos continued. "I know the manager and employees anyways, so I could get us a discount. And possibly a bit of safety from anyone who wants to rush and gush at you," he said as he held the door open, waiting for Logan to head inside before following him in.

"Yo yo Carlos, what's up dude?" the tall curly-haired student behind the counter yelled in a thick Jersey accent before looking back down to the pizza dough he was rolling.

"Hey Johnny boy, long time no see! How's this job been working for you?" the tan boy asked, running up to the counter to give the other man a fist pound, leaving Logan standing in the center of the room alone.

"It's pretty cool. What're you up to?"

"Just computing, singing, and dancing. Y'know, the norm."

"Oh yeah, some chick who came in like ten minutes ago said that you rocked the street fair hardcore."

Logan and a few other customers watched and listened as the two went back and forth, shouting and gesturing wildly for a couple minutes. Logan sighed. _'I really hope he isn't always this hyper, I could really use his attention if I ever get more alone time with him.'_ The brunet would hear random snippets of the conversation interrupting his thoughts now and then as he continued to wait to make an order.

"How's psychology working for you?"

"Oh, I changed majors…"

"Again? Really?"

"Uh-huh…"

After listening to two more long minutes of random talk between the college students, the gymnast cleared his throat, gaining both of their attentions. Carlos paled when he realized that he pretty much forgot about Logan, running over to grab the brunet by the wrist and pull him over.

"Oops, um… so yeah, sorry, this is Logan," he explained as his older friend gave a small wave to the brunet. Logan returned the gesture with a slight smile before turning to look up at the menu. "We're just here for some quick dinner."

"Oh, well then, nice to meet you sir." John leaned down closer to Carlos with a smirk on his face, long hair almost going into the Latino's mouth. "This your newest catch, dude? He looks kinda like that famous dude, y'know, the gymnast guy. He's a pretty good looking chap if I do say so myself." Carlos blushed heavily, attempting to flick his friend in the forehead and taking a step back as John turned and chuckled to himself. It's not that John was gay, or homophobic for that matter. He just loved poking fun at Carlos, James, and Dak whenever they came into the shop with another guy. The long-haired boy placed his hands back down on the pizza dough. "So what can I make for you two dudes today?"

Kendall pulled into a parking space directly next to the black convertible that he recognized as Logan's from Olympic Rings sticker at the left of the rear bumper. Stepping out of the car, he looked at his surroundings. There were very few people in the parking lot, most of them appearing to be students, and none of them appearing to be the brunet he was looking for. He sighed loudly, beginning to aimlessly wander around, hoping to catch a hint of where Logan had gone.

As he walked, he could feel everyone's eyes quickly glance up at him before going back down to read or turning back to continue some sort of conversation. The blond's suit and tie did seem a little out of place among the t-shirts and shorts that everyone else on campus was wearing, especially on a day as hot as it was. He also wasn't very much older than any of them, so it was pretty much normal for them to judge him by his appearance. Why exactly would someone who looks like he also belongs in college be dressed up like that on a weekend where classes were cancelled?

Eventually, the blond managed to come across a large courtyard type area. Many people were gathered around for what seemed like a street faire, judging from the large stage and concession stands scattered here and there with the occasional performer standing out from the crowd. Kendall made his way over toward the stage, knocking loudly on the door when he arrived. _'Someone has to have seen him around here…'_ After a short period, the door swung open to reveal a tall brunet carrying an acoustic guitar, the student just staring at him for a couple of seconds before speaking. "Can I help you?"

Kendall cleared his throat and tightened his tie, then reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet. "Hey there, do you happen to know where I could find this person?" He dug through his wallet, easily finding a picture of Logan and holding it up. The brunet's eyebrow rose and he gave Kendall a curious look before responding.

"I don't personally know where he is, but I bet James does. I'll go get him, you come on in." The boy replied as turned away and headed back onto the stage with Kendall close behind. While walking, he blond heard the sound of conversation from inside grow louder as the boy in front of him began to play a simple melody on the guitar. "James, someone is here for you," his guide shouted before walking toward a group of five other students conversing loudly off to the side. Kendall waited for this "James", pulling his phone out to make sure he hadn't missed any calls or texts from the missing gymnast. A hand on his shoulder caught the blond's attention, causing him to turn, and he was met with the face of an extremely handsome brunet, the taller boy taking a step back suddenly before putting on a relaxed smile.

"Hey there, the name's James. How can I help you?" The brunet raised his left eyebrow at Kendall and put on a dazzling smile, eyes twinkling brightly. The blond grinned at the expression. This guy was definitely putting himself out there.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Kendall. Now, you see, I'm kinda looking for someone and was hoping that you-"

"Well, Mr. Kendall, I think that the someone you're looking for is right here," James interrupted him in mid-sentence, pointing to himself. The brunet quickly snaked an arms across Kendall's shoulders, pulling the blond into a more relaxed position. "How about I take you out to dinner, blondie? Or maybe a movie?" Kendall chuckled at the brunet's straightforward attempts to make a date. Heck, this James kid didn't even know if he was really gay or not (which he was), but that didn't stop him from trying anyways. Sadly, Kendall had a job to do and a gymnast to find.

"Maybe some other time, handsome," he returned, removing the muscular arm from his shoulders. Now, about this someone I'm looking for," he replied as he once again attempted to reach into his pocket for his wallet. The hand was stopped when James grabbed his wrist, and Kendall looked up into hazel eyes.

"Look, for one thing, you don't refuse James Diamond. For another thing, I know who you are, I watched the Olympics. You're Logan Mitchell's manager, you're really fucking hot, and I want you. So if I help you find your little gymnast buddy, will you accept my invitation to dinner?" Kendall raised an eyebrow. Now the brunet was bargaining with him, but there was no other way that he was going to find Logan. And he did kind of want to go out with this guy… The blond sighed loudly and put a hand to his forehead.

"I guess you have a deal, Mr. Diamond. I'll take you to dinner tonight, but only _after_ you help me find Logan."

"Cool." The taller boy turned to the other group of students, whistling loudly to get their attention. "Dak. Camille. You two are in charge of holding down the fort while I take blondie to find Carlos and Logan." The brunette girl gave him a quick wave, signaling that she heard. James smirked and grabbed Kendall's wrist, pulling him out the stage door and onto the sidewalk.

"How the heck can you eat that and stay in that shape?" Carlos asked, taking the last bite of his pizza as he gestured up and down Logan's body, referencing the vegetarian pizza that was sitting on the gymnast's plate. Logan raised an eyebrow in return.

"Well, for one thing, vegetables are good for you-"

"Blech."

"-and for another thing it's just one meal. You haven't seen me eat anything else before. For all you know, this is a one time thing." Carlos sighed, knowing that Logan had won once again. The brunet simply gave him a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Carlos, you have to think your arguments through a little bit better before making them, you're never going to win if you try to argue an invalid point." _'Especially against me. Trust me, Kendall's tried.'_

"Yeah yeah, whatever." The two sat in silence for a minute, Carlos sitting and pouting at his empty plate as Logan slowly finished up his gross looking veggies. Whenever he knew that the Latino wasn't looking, Logan would glance up at the adorable little pout that he had on, enjoying how the tan boy's lower lip stuck out and his eye stared longingly over toward the counter that had more pizza waiting behind it. Logan waited to see if the tan boy would move before offering him a bite of his own food. Carlos looked down at it with disdain, scooting back a bit.

"Gross."

"Just try it, I can tell you're still hungry and I don't want you spending any more money right now."

"But-" Logan placed a hand on Carlos' wrist to cut him off, handing him the rest of the slice of pizza and leaning forward.

"Eat it before I shove it down your throat." Of course the dirty half of the Latino's mind clicked on at the statement, causing him to start giggling uncontrollably. Logan looked at him quizzically before placing a hand to his forehead. "Oh my God, you didn't just think that, did you?"

"You're the one who said it," Carlos chuckled back before looking back to the handful of vegetables that he was holding. It was gross looking. He didn't want to eat it. And he knew he wasn't going to get out of eating it. He gave Logan one last pleading stare, the pale boy just pointing between the food and his mouth. Sighing, the Latino raised the food to his mouth, quickly eating the last few bites and placing his hands down on the table. Logan smiled triumphantly and leaned back in his chair.

"So? What do you think?" Carlos' unhappy look didn't faze the brunet at all.

"I think I'm gonna hurl." Logan just laughed and pulled the boy up from his chair. Turning his head to the counter, he said a quick thank-you and goodbye to John, the blond man waving a quick goodbye as he spun another pizza dough circle over his head.

Carlos showed Logan around Westwood Village for a while longer, the two stopping in shops every once in a while when the Latino saw something that captured his attention. They visited a video game store, a candy shop, and a small pharmacy before finally slowing to a stop outside a store that had hundreds of cookies in the window. Logan stared for a second, trying to start them walking again.

"We can't stop here." Carlos eyed him suspiciously.

"And why not?" Logan sighed and pointed to the store window, watching as Carlos licked his lips.

"But I love this place!"

"Carlos, I'm not going in that store, you can't make me." The Latino smirked. Looks like the unbeatable gymnast Logan Mitchell had a weakness.

"Come on, we're going in. I'll buy you a cookie."

"No! Carlos, I'm telling you, I don't want one!" Carlos grabbed onto the brunet's hand, locking their fingers and pulling him inside. Logan blushed at the touch, it seemed a little more intimate than just a "come on".

"And your eyes are saying you definitely do. Let's go!"

Half an hour later, the two boys walked out the door of the last shop and onto the sidewalk, the Latino leaning on the taller boy the whole way. Logan shook his head and sighed.

"Note to self- four extra hours in the gym tomorrow," he said to himself, hearing the Latino laugh at the statement.

"Oh come on, it was just two cookies." Logan looked at his companion who was still leaning against him. The tan boy looked exhausted, but adorable all the same as he began to fall asleep standing up. "Logan, I'm tired," Carlos whined into his ear with a yawn, eyes half closed and struggling a bit to keep standing.

"I'd bet you are from all that singing. Why don't I take you home now?" The Latino smiled at him, closing his eyes and reaching his arms out like a small child.

"Carry me?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Why? You do have two legs that aren't broken."

"Because you like me. Please?" Logan smirked. The other boy had finally won one of their arguments. Placing one hand behind Carlos' back, Logan ducked down and pulled his legs up, the tan boy coming to rest in his arms. The Latino's breathing immediately slowed, his head coming to rest in the crook of Logan's neck as they headed back the direction they came from. That's when Kendall's familiar voice called through the throng of people to him.

"Logan!"

A/N: I'm gonna make this quick since I have barely any time right now. I'm sure that this isn't my best writing ever, and I just hope you all don't dislike it. Sorry for ending it there, but it's a lead in to next chapter of course.

Thank you all for reading, please review. Don't worry, Dreamscape is actually coming along for the first time in the almost month and a half (.) that I haven't posted anything for it. The next chapter of this should be up by next weekend. I hope you all are doing well, and have a great holiday.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry for the late update guys. I planned on putting something up last weekend, but I got distracted. And by distracted, I mean I changed up my whole life. I changed my sense of style and had to mess around with outfits. Got my left ear pierced, got my hair buzzed, started wearing my glasses, and started wearing my silver stud belt again. Plus, I'm auditioning for _Hairspray_ at my school too (hoping to be Corny Collins :D), so I have to practice singing and dancing alongside trumpet for band and marching band. And then there's homework… I actually started doing it. And then suddenly it was this weekend.

Okay, now, thank you to _Ano-nee-mus, Nerdy-Mochi22, mslunarissa, AdmCpjm, Kogan4ever, Lowell the Lonely, BieberHendersongrl, Deception Alchemist, bubzchoc, TangeloNightmares, Reinier, Edward Changed Me, huyandhieu, Sum1cooler, Lewkis, Romance Robert, HeartsXshadow, _and _WinterMission_ for your reviews, faves, and alerts. They mean a lot as always.

So, time to get this next part rolling off my desktop now. On with the show!

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><p>Chapter X<p>

Carlos' eyes slowly fluttered open, and he rubbed them as he sat up and looked around. He remembered falling asleep in the arms of his crush, but somehow he had made it back to his and James' apartment and onto the couch. The tall brunet was nowhere to be seen. All the lights were out, and the tan boy looked over to the glowing digital clock on the table. The red lights showed the time as 8:37pm, and Carlos stood up and walked over to James' bedroom.

"James?" He poked his head through the door, not seeing anyone in the room. The Latino waited patiently for something in response, fumbling through the dark toward the small kitchen, but there was no response. "Jaaaames? Where are youuuuu?" He called again into the dark apartment, but there was still no response to speak of other than the creak of the boards under the linoleum floor of the kitchen. Finally finding and flipping on the lights, Carlos looked around the now-visible kitchen once more before noticing a folded note sitting on the counter underneath a pair of keys. Picking the objects up, the tan boy shook the keys, enjoying the sounds of little pieces of metal as they clinked together, subsequently flipping the note open. It was written on the back of a campus map that had a small spot highlighted and an address and directions to somewhere hastily scrawled underneath it.

_Carlos-_

_Sorry for not being home when you wake up. Logan's manager (Kendall) and I found you curled up in Logan's arms while in Westwood, and Kendall had me take you home while he took your little boy toy back to his own home. Before I left, Logan handed me these keys and this map; the keys apparently belong to his car, and I'm guessing that he's hoping that you'll either drop it off or more likely come for a visit. The parking lot is highlighted on the back of this note and there are directions to Logan's house underneath that. I'll be out with Kendall until late, so you do whatever it is you want to for the next few hours._

_-James_

_P.S.- Tell Logan I say hi and sorry for the shirt. Have fun on your date part two!_

Carlos blushed a little at the post-script, flipping the note once again and holding the car keys up a bit higher, smirking at them. Grabbing a hoodie from his closet and his wallet from the floor next to the couch, the Latino quickly checked around the apartment once more for any surprises before walking to the door.

* * *

><p>It didn't take long to find Logan's car in the lot; it was one of the only ones left, and it had a large Olympic Rings sticker on the left side of the back bumper. It was also the only car that responded when Carlos accidentally hit the panic button instead of the unlock button on the remote. A loud siren-like noise tore the air around the car as the lights flashed repeatedly, and Carlos frantically pressed more buttons until the sounds and lights stopped, two cute little beeps punctuating the scream as the car unlocked. The tan boy looked around sheepishly after stopping the commotion, seeing a Goth couple glowering at him from far away. Waving nervously, he slowly opened the door of the now silent car and sat down inside.<p>

The key went in and turned, the engine roared to life, and the stereo immediately began to play soft acoustic guitar picks into the small space. Carlos smirked, recognizing the song, turning up the volume, and bobbing his head a few times before shifting into reverse. He pulled the car back as the soft music continued to play around his head, slowly growing louder when the chorus drew in as the vehicle approached the highway. The Latino bounced lightly in his seat along with the music, the words flowing from his mouth along with the song once it hit the bridge.

"_Backyard of butterflies surrounded me._

_I fell in love with you like bees to honey._

_So let's up and leave the weeping to the willow tree,_

_and pour our tears in the sea._

_I swear there's a lot of vegetables out there_

_that crop up for air._

_Yet I never thought_

_we were two peas in a pod _

_till you suddenly bloomed._

_Then I knew_

_that I'd always love you._

_Oh I'll always love you too."_

As the song drew to a close, a contented smile crossed Carlos' lips. Logan had a nice taste in music, albeit a little sappy and romantic it seemed. The drive to the gymnast's house was mostly uneventful after the song finished, the next ones not catching the tan boy's attention quite like the first, though that was mostly because he didn't know them. Carlos pulled the car off the highway after ten minutes, driving into a small neighborhood and stopping in the driveway of a small two-story brick and wood house on the edge of a beach.

Stepping out of the car, the Latino took one more look at the address on the back of the note before walking to the door. He pressed the doorbell button, hearing obnoxiously loud barking from the other side with the word "Coming" yelled over it a few moments later. Carlos took interest in counting the number of bricks that were making up the front porch of the house, turning back to the door when he heard the lock click. The door opened a small amount, Logan's head poking through the hole. A small dog appeared at the bottom, barking it's head off, but the brunet shushed it and shooed it away before turning his head back to Carlos.

"Oh, hey Carlos."

"Hey Logan, I brought your car back." The gymnast smiled warmly and opened the door the rest of the way. Carlos' jaw dropped.

Logan Mitchell was standing in front of him wearing only a stark white towel, hair plastered to his forehead and soaking wet with a large number of stray soap bubbles floating in the brown locks. The taller boy's muscles were shining in the low light of the porch lamp outside, and a small trail of hair pointed down into the wet towel that was dripping a few splashes of water onto the tile floor inside. The tan boy's mouth opened and closed repeatedly like a fish, unable to form words as Logan invited him into the house, giving Carlos a nice view of his large back as he turned to walk further in.

"By the look on your face, I'm assuming that you understand that you got here while I was in the shower," the brunet stopped and turned back around once they reached the bottom of the stairs, but the Latino didn't notice that. He just kept walking and concentrating on not letting his emotions get the better of him, easily losing that control when he bumped into the gymnast. All the blood in his body rushed to his face and crotch, quickly becoming extremely embarrassed and aroused by the feeling of the other boy's skin. Logan chuckled upon seeing Carlos' bright red face. "And I'm also assuming that you like what you see." The Latino took a couple awkward steps backwards, suddenly finding his shoes extremely interesting, but then felt Logan's hands come to rest on his shoulders.

"I'm going to go finish my shower and get all this soap out of my hair, you go ahead and make yourself at home," the brunet said with a smile, looking down when he felt something soft rubbing against his ankle. Picking up the little dog, he gave her a quick kiss on the nose before handing the furball to Carlos. "This is Poof, she'll keep you company for the next five to ten minutes. Now, off I go." Logan disappeared up the stairs, leaving Carlos with a still stunned look and flushed face standing in the hallway with a dog in his arms.

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><p>Logan came back down about ten minutes later (fully clothed), finding Carlos walking around aimlessly and looking at random things around his living room. Poof was following closely at his heels, rubbing up against the tan boy's leg every couple of seconds to get his attention. The brunet smiled and walked over behind Carlos, tapping the Latino on the shoulder and donning a lopsided smile when the boy turned around.<p>

"Got any plans?"

"Not that I can think of…"

"Care to go take a seat on the deck with me?" The gymnast motioned to the sliding glass doors, two wooden sun loungers facing out toward the ocean. Logan walked over to the doors after seeing Carlos nod, flipping on a light switch and pulling the door open. He motioned for the tan boy to go first, following him out to sit down.

The two sat in relative quiet, the sounds of crickets and cicadas floating through the air. Logan just sat and enjoyed the company of the Latino boy next to him, thinking of how to start a comfortable conversation. Carlos, on the other hand, was freaking out. He was at _Logan Mitchell's house, _sitting on _Logan Mitchell's deck, _and he was about to ask a question from out of his dreams. Hopefully it wasn't actually just a dream.

"Hey Logan…" The taller boy turned his head to see his guest staring out at the ocean. The light was shining off of his tan skin, leaving the left side of his face in shadows and making the boy look amazing.

"Yes Carlos?" Carlos gulped, and gathered his courage, taking a deep breath in and out.

"So today was basically a date, right?"

"You can say that." The tan boy smiled, courage elevating a little higher and turning his gaze to stare Logan in the eyes.

"So, I could also say that we're dating."

"Yup." Carlos looked out to the ocean once more to see the moon rising over the water. Only one more question to go.

"So… I hope you don't mind if I do this." _'Please work.'_ The Latino stepped up from his lounger and covered the two feet of space between the chairs. Leaning down, he attempted to connect his lips to the gymnast's, but he was stopped by a finger pressed against his mouth. He pulled back a bit, a confused look crossing his face as he stared Logan in the eyes once more. The tan boy's heart sank, but he saw a contented smirk stare back up at him, the lips beginning to move.

"Carlos, if you want to be my very first kiss, then you had better make it pretty damn special." Carlos ran the statement over in his head once before coming up with a perfect response of his own. He motioned to the sparkling water underneath the large white orb that was hanging just over the water and laughed.

"What could be more special than this? The night of my first date with an international celebrity who just so happened to turn out as a wonderful, sweet guy with a huge sweet tooth and an appreciation of my singing… what a special time for me. Don't you feel the same way?" Logan thought for a second, finally pulling his hand down from in front of his mouth.

"You're right-" Carlos smiled brightly, lowering his mouth to Logan's and cutting off the end of the brunet's reply before he had time to reconsider. The Latino moved his lips against the gymnast's, hand snaking around to grasp the back of Logan's neck and fingers curling into the short brown locks at the nape. Carlos was just seeing the regular sparks a little more clearly; Logan was seeing a Fourth of July fireworks show and hearing a symphony in his head.

The two separated when the need for air became too great, the gymnast moaning loudly at the loss. Carlos smiled and sat down in Logan's chair, settling himself between the brunet's legs and tilting his head back to look the boy in the eyes. Logan smiled and sighed in happiness, wrapping his arms around the boy in front of him and resting his head in the jet black hair. Soon enough, he was out cold, the Latino resting back against him and slowly starting to slip off as well.

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><p>Kendall turned his key and walked into Logan's house. It was just after midnight, and he had just taken James back to his apartment. He was just checking in on the gymnast just to make sure that he hadn't snuck out once again.<p>

"Logan, where are you?" the blond called into the dark house. He spotted lights out on the beach deck, walking to the sliding glass door. When he saw what was outside, he frowned. Somehow, that Latino boy had made it all the way from being just a random fan to something much more intimate, evidenced by the way Logan was holding him. Sighing, he opened the door and walked out onto the deck, striding over to the sleeping brunet. He placed a hand on Logan's shoulder and shook lightly, the gymnast cracking an eye open and yawning.

"Just five more minutes…"

"Logan, you need to go to bed, and Carlos needs to _go home._" The brunet's eyes opened a little wider, and he frowned.

"He can stay here for tonight."

"No, he can't. He probably has class tomorrow morning."

"But tomorrow is Sunday. Please Kenny?" Logan looked up at his blond friend, eyes wide and watering, lower lip quivering. Kendall tried to resist the doe eyes, but he simply couldn't, groaning in concession.

"One night. He can stay just this once. But I expect you to get a good night's sleep and go to the gym tomorrow." Logan beamed widely, picking Carlos up and saying a quick thank-you to his manager before disappearing into the house and up the stairs. The blond watched the waves roll in for a minute longer before turning to go into the house once more, locking the glass door behind him.

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><p>AN: So yeah. That's it. They're both couples now. Yippee. I'm sorry for not posting this last weekend, and I'll make it up to you. I have a one-shot stuck in my head, I have another chapter for this, and I have Dreamscape's ending _almost_ finished (FINALLY). And all three of those are going up next weekend (hopefully).

Oh, and the song is "Honey and the Bee" by Owl City. I love that song...

So yeah, I hope you liked it (I'm sorta meh on it), please review, and I'll see you all (hopefully) next weekend. Have a good whatever time it is, and happy reading!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Hello everyone, and sorry for being absent. Last week I was sick with evil-temperature-control-loss syndrome (I have no idea what it actually was), and then this past weekend the marching band went on a trip to Cincinatti. But now the marching band season is over and I have time to write more for you all. Yippee!

Now, I'd like to thank _Troublesome Pyro Pyromaniac, saywhattt, MiaCnnr, Edward Changed Me, bubzchoc, CourtneyC1, Sum1cooler, JessamineLovelace, swagtastickatie, huyandhieu, TengeloNightmares, BieberHendersongrl, Lewkis, _and_ Ano-nee-mus_ for your reviews, faves, and alerts. I'd also like to thank all those who started reading _Adopted_ and who read _It's Who I Am_.

Now, time to end this long note and get started with writing. Here it goes!

Chapter XI

When Carlos' eyes fluttered open the next morning, he was hit directly in the face with a ray of light. Groaning loudly, he shifted to try to get the light to go away, but no such thing occurred. The tan boy sat up slowly, pushing sheets and a muscular arm off of his body, the bleach white bed's softness dulling the speed of his already sluggish movements as he turned toward the window. Sunlight was filtering in through the small window, interrupting his sleep, the Latino swinging his legs off the bed to go close the curtains. Clutching his arms to his bare chest to keep warm, Carlos walked over to the window in a daze, but only once he pulled the curtains shut and plunged the room back into semi-darkness did his still groggy mind register his current situation.

He once again wasn't in his ugly and uncomfortable bed at the apartment he called home. However, this time he wasn't on that apartment's ugly and uncomfortable brown couch either. Slowly turning around, Carlos' jaw dropped at the sight he took in. He was still at Logan's house. He had been sleeping in Logan's bed. Logan was still in the bed, his arm still lying in the spot once occupied by the tan boy_._ _They had slept together, literally and possibly figuratively. _The Latino squeaked in excitement, but upon noticing his current state of near-complete undress, the excitement turned to embarrassment. Blushing madly, he tiptoed quietly around the room in an attempt to find his shirt, finally noticing it and his pants folded neatly on a chair along the wall across from the window. At least the shirt was nice and warm from sitting in the sunbeam.

Crawling back into the covers and the gymnast's comforting grasp, Carlos watched the brunet take slow, deep breaths while he slept. It was a little awkward and creepy, but he was allowed to do that now. They were boyfriends. The Latino squealed softly from joy at the word, repeating it over and over in his head using a sing-songy voice. Leaning forward, Carlos placed a hand on the brunet's cheek, making small circles in an attempt to wake him. When that didn't work, he tried patting the pale skin, still to no avail. In one last attempt to wake him, the tan boy brought his lips down to touch the ones of the still sleeping gymnast. What he didn't expect was for Logan's hand to come up and wrap itself around the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Carlos moaned happily, pulling away when the need for air became too great and staring Logan in the eyes.

"Good morning, handsome," the brunet whispered with a chuckle, sitting up in the bed. The tan boy failed to respond for a bit, too busy gawking at the beautifully sculpted muscle of Logan's chest and stomach to formulate a reply. The gymnast laughed quietly to himself, waiting for his new boyfriend to recover from the bliss-induced shock. "I'm not going to have to get the smelling salts every time I take off my shirt, am I? And why are you suddenly dressed, everything was perfectly fine the way it was." Carlos shook his head, jaw snapping back up from its formerly slack position.

"Uh, no, no. Of course not! I was cold, and… and… And you were faking being asleep until I kissed you, weren't you?" Logan put on an innocent-looking grin, causing the Latino's heart to flutter again.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You do so!"

"Nuh-uh!" With that, the raven-haired boy dove on top of the brunet, the two bodies flipping back and forth on the bed as Carlos tried to pin Logan's arms down. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't nearly as strong as the gymnast and he quickly ended up with his own arms crossed behind his head. Logan beamed down at him, leaning down to touch his nose to the Latino's.

"So do I get a prize for winning?" he asked, donning a lopsided half-smile. The tan boy smirked in response, tipping his head back a bit.

"Only if you can catch it." Logan always enjoyed a challenge. This relationship was already turning out to be one of the best things he had ever experienced in his life.

After almost half an hour more of playing around and making out (Carlos was very surprised that Logan had never kissed anyone before him; the brunet was _really_good at it), Logan stood up.

"Care for some breakfast?" The tan boy's eyes lit up as he rolled off the bed, running over to grab the brunet's hands excitedly.

"Food? Sure thing, let's go!" Carlos attempted to drag Logan to the stairs, the gymnast easily resisting the movement, listening as the Latino began to blurt out his breakfast plans under his breath. "I could make pancakes! Or waffles, or French toast, or eggs, or… or… Logan, come on! I'm starviiiing!"

'_He's so adorable…' _"Carlos, wait…"

"Pleeeease? I'm so hungry I'm gonna die!" The Latino looked up at his boyfriend with sad, watering eyes, attempting to guilt the boy into moving, but the gymnast continued to stand completely still.

"Carlos, for one thing you aren't going to die, and for another thing I need to get dressed. Even if _you_ usually walk around your home in only your boxers, I don't. It's a little uncomforting to me. Plus… uh… I'm cold?" Carlos raised an eyebrow.

"So you're saying that you want me to take off my shirt too then?"

"…come again?"

"You want me to take off my shirt again and share in your discomfort, and I'm perfectly happy to oblige."

"That's not what I'm saying at all!" However, Carlos' shirt was already back on the chair where it had been sitting all night long, the boy's beautifully tanned back to the gymnast. The Latino slowly turned around once more, a crafty smirk crossing his face.

"But you like the idea, don't you?" Logan sighed, but then put on a smile and looked back at the mischievously twinkling brown orbs.

"Fine. I'll do it, but just because I get to see _this_," he replied as he took a couple steps forward, running his hands up and down the deeply tanned chest, marveling at the softness of the boy's skin. "And, because I get to do _this,_" the gymnast added, bringing his mouth down to kiss his way down the line of Carlos' jaw and finally bring their lips together, the Latino moaning loudly and allowing Logan's tongue to make its way inside his mouth. After a very short-lived battle for dominance, Logan won out, but Carlos eventually pulled his mouth away.

"Food time." Logan laughed. Looks like he was pretty much on the same level as food when it came to importance for the shorter boy right now, the tan back already retreating hastily down the stairs. Within ten seconds he heard loud rustling followed by two crashes and yappy barking come from the kitchen, so the gymnast hurried down to inspect the damage and found the floor covered in flour with two upturned and slightly dented pots laying in the center of the white, powdery mess. Carlos was standing next to the row of cabinets hanging on the wall, looking down at the mess before rushing over to Logan with a panicked look and wrapping his arms around the larger boy's frame. Shocked and confused, all Logan could do was reciprocate the gesture and wait for the smaller boy to calm down.

"Oh man, oh my god. I'm sorry, I am _so _sorry. I guess this is why James doesn't let me cook… I can fix this! I _will_ fix this!" The words spilled out of his mouth in a storm, the tan boy attempting to pull out of the brunet's grasp.

"Carlos, Carlos, hun, please calm down," Logan soothed the boy that was struggling in his grip, fingers curling in and out of the pitch-black hair on the Latino's head. The struggling began to slow and eventually stopped, brown eyes turning up to meet Logan's own. "It's just fine, I'm not mad."

"…you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Now, I'll clean this up when I get home from the gym, and we can just eat toaster waffles and sit out on the deck." Carlos' demeanor instantly changed, the same mischievous smirk from before breaking out as the smaller boy began to giggle.

"Out on the deck?"

"Yes, Carlitos." The Latino giggled once more, Logan assuming it was from the nickname. It was a suiting nickname, just as cute as the boy it described.

"You promise?"

"Yes, I…" The gymnast paused, analyzing what he had said more closely. "Wait, I mean in the living room! Yeah, we can eat in the living room! Not outside where everyone can see me almost indecent."

"Hey, no take-backs! We're eating out on the deck, undies or not. You just promised." Carlos danced happily to the freezer, shivering as the door opened. He quickly pulled out some waffles, popping them into the toaster and grabbing the taller boy's wrist. "Come on, outside now! You said it yourself, so we're going out there."

"Carlos…"

"But Logie, you said we would! Besides, it's so nice out this morning, we have to go out there." The Latino pulled harder on his wrist, and Logan sighed loudly, raising his other hand to his forehead. Carlos frowned, walking over to the sliding glass door that led out to the deck and pulling it open.

"I didn't mean to say that, it was just to get you to calm down about-"

"Logan Mitchell, we're going outside!" Carlos ordered, pointing to the now open door and scowling. The pale boy raised his hand to argue, but Carlos only repeated his gesture more emphatically to get his idea across. The tan boy's face softened when Logan sighed and walked over, placing his hand on the taller boy's shoulder and giving him yet another sly smirk.

"If you make a promise to me, there's no going back."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. At least I still get to do this," the gymnast replied, his right hand loosely wrapping around the shorter boy's neck and his head leaning down to touch their lips together again. Carlos sighed happily into the lip lock, cheeks reddening and mouth hanging open just wide enough for Logan's tongue to once again slip inside and dance with the Latino's. After another weakly fought battle for dominance, Logan's tongue tried to quickly explore and memorize any sensitive spots it could find, but the time was cut short by the sound of the toaster popping up. The brunet was still proud of himself, as he managed to find one really good spot that sent a shiver straight down the tan boy's spine. Carlos pulled away, a lighthearted smile crossing his face as his blush disappeared. He poked Logan on the nose playfully, then pointed to the door.

"The food's done, so go outside. I'll meet you out there with our breakfast." Logan groaned unhappily, partially at the loss of the shorter boy's lips and partially from the same boy's insistence with going outside when he was dressed only in a pair of boxer-briefs and the Latino only had on boxers.

"Do we really have to go outside?"

"Logan…"

"Alright, alright…"

James' morning began just like every other. He woke up at 10:30AM on the dot, rolled out of bed, stretched, and walked to the apartment's bathroom. After a fifteen-minute shower that involved washing his lustrous and beautiful brown locks multiple times, the brunet returned to his room to get dressed. Halfway through picking out his outfit for the day, a stray thought crossed his mind concerning Carlos' whereabouts. _'Oh, he's probably still at Logan's house,' _he thought, a smirk breaking onto his face upon imagining what the two shorter boys must have done. The tall brunet was suddenly hit with realization. _'Wait…'_

It was Monday. Carlos had Spanish on Mondays at… sometime before James woke up. If he wasn't back yet… Well, it was just one missed class, it couldn't hurt too much. Except for that Señora Wainright didn't really like Carlos… _'Aww jeez, why did I leave those keys for him? Now he's gonna be mad at _me_ for making him miss class… even though it is his fault, he didn't _have _to go see Logan.'_ James sighed loudly, pulling out his phone and punching in a number.

"Good morning James. Did you sleep well?" Kendall's voice answered on the opposite end.

"Very well, Kenny. Would you mind doing me a favor?"

Kendall's car pulled up outside Logan's house, the tall blond stepping slowly up to the front door after getting out. He reached out to ring the doorbell, but his finger stopped and his eyes widened when he heard voices from around the side of the house, coming from the deck.

"Just relax, Logie. It'll go much more easily if you do." Carlos' voice was followed by a pleasured groan in the gymnast's voice. Kendall's mind immediately rushed to conclusions from the one statement. _'Oh my god, he wouldn't…'_

"Ooh, Carlos, you're really-ah-good at this…"

"I've had a lot of practice." The blond heard a loud, extremely pleasured moan come from Logan a few seconds later.

"Ah, right there, right there!"

"Feel good?"

"Oh, definitely, keep going."

The manager took large strides around the sides of the house, quickly ending up with a view of the deck where he saw the Latino boy kneeling behind Logan in a chair, hands lightly massaging the taller boy's shoulders and back. The pale boy would moan every couple seconds as the skilled tan hands hit exactly the right spot, relieving the tension in his shoulders. Noting the state of undress that the two were in, Kendall blushed and looked down to his feet, clearing his throat to get their attention. The two looked over at him, Carlos' hands never stopping in their massaging movements while Logan's face paled a bit then reddened in embarrassment. However, another particularly sensitive touch caused the gymnast to moan happily and shut his eyes tightly.

"Ah, right there please."

"Okay babe. And hey Kendall, how was your night with James?" the tan boy asked, hands moving lower down the brunet's back, causing him to sigh with delight. The blond stepped up onto the deck.

"It was nice, but I got a request from him to bring you home. He didn't say why, he just said you had to come home soon. He sent me to come get you since he doesn't have a car of his own." Kendall was overjoyed to receive that phone call from James. He had no idea what it was about Carlos that he didn't like, but there was just something wrong with the idea of this boy dating Logan to him and the blond was quite happy to take him home and away from Logan for a while. The Latino's hand slowed to a stop, Logan's eyes opening again.

"…well, I guess this means I had better go get dressed," Carlos replied with a frown. Logan turned his head to look at the tan boy as he stood up, the pale boy placing a hand onto his back and guiding him inside. The blond followed the two, passing by a large white flour pile in the center of the kitchen on his way to wait by the front door.

About five minutes later, the two came back down the stairs, both fully dressed. Kendall beckoned for Carlos to follow him, pulling the door open and walking out toward his car. The tan boy turned to Logan, pulling him into a quick embrace and planting his lips on the brunet's. He sighed happily, breaking the embrace and smiling, his hands resting lightly in the grasp of his boyfriend's.

"I'll call you later, I had an idea for what we could do tonight."

"Okay. Stay safe, Kendall's driving is a little reckless." Carlos smirked and delivered one more chaste kiss to the gymnast's lips before stepping down from the front porch.

"I'll remember that."

Before they drove off, Kendall rolled down his window. "Remember Logan, you have to go to the gym today. 3 hours at least, gotta stay in shape."

"I know, I know."

The blond dropped the Latino off at his apartment, driving away once he saw that the boy had made it inside. James was waiting for him on the other side of the door.

"'Sup James? You wanted me home, right?" Carlos asked, placing his keys onto the kitchen counter as he walked past James. The pretty boy crossed his arms over his chest and sighed.

"You do know that you missed Señora Wainright's class today, right?"

"…Come again?"

"This morning. You had class. You were at Logan's, so you missed it. You told me that Ms. Wainright doesn't like you, so why would you miss her class?" Carlos groaned and shook his head. He couldn't believe how stupid James was being!

"James, it's Sunday! I don't _have_ class on Sundays! You fucking idiot, you just made Kendall come and separate me and Logan because you don't know what day it is!" James furrowed his eyebrows in anger, arms going down to his sides.

"Well I'm sorry, I made a god damn mistake. How often do you make mistakes that I'm fine with?" The tan boy scowled, annoyance intensifying into anger.

"It's not about that! It's about the fact that you made me come home for no fucking reason to bitch at me about how I 'missed class' when I was enjoying a nice morning with my boyfriend!" James gritted his teeth. So maybe it was his fault, but the Latino could at least be thankful that James was looking out for him even if he was wrong.

"Well excuse me for caring about your goddamn education. I'm done with this," James angrily replied, turning on a heel and heading toward his bedroom. Carlos grabbed his keys from the counter, hastily stepping back out the front door and slamming it behind him.

A/N: Ooh, conflict. And for all of you who expected something different to be happening on the deck: you're all weird for assuming they were having sexytimes on the deck even though that's exactly what I was trying to imply. Logan would never do that!

Once again, sorry about the lateness of the update, but I've had a lot of stuff to do and it's not getting any better (just got assigned a math independent study project on knot theory… I don't understand it at all). I was going to try to get up stuff for a one-shot and _Adopted _too, but I didn't have any time to write either of them. I really wish I had more time.

Anyways, thanks for reading, please do review. I hope that I'll have something else for next week, but I give you no guarantees. I really want to do a Halloween one-shot (even though everyone is going to do one), but once more, no promises. Hectic life is hectic. So now, I'd just like to wish you a good morning/afternoon/evening depending on your time zone, and happy reading!


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Greeting! Story explaining why I haven't uploaded this chapter yet and expressing how sorry I am for not updating earlier. Secondary statement about how the update is finally up. Tertiary statement expressing joy about the new year! Quaternary statement restating my apologies with an excited interjection at the end!

Statement regarding required recognition of people. List expressing thanks to _the voice of singing clouds, CudaChick7, Bfly-Ronaldita, dbz7000, Sonaaa, Dorney77, JuliaBearr, btrlover-reader4life, kendallsgirl12, NoireVerteFemme, Carphanie, Rocketsfan, shayshay11, its Steph, Lewkis, couellette, Vampire-Goth-Girl, duckduck4, Miacnnr, Sum1cooler, waitingFORthePERFECTsong9092, Edward Changed Me, ThatOtherGorgeousGirlYouKnow, bubzchoc, W0ND3R, BieberHendersongrl, _and _Mayday Henderson_ for their reviews, favorites, and story alerts. Statement of how much the aforementioned reviews, favorites, and story alerts mean to me!

Obligatory statement about author's note being too long. Exclamation involving something having to do with starting the story!

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><p>Chapter XII<p>

Carlos walked down the street in a huff, a couple of people looking at him strangely. The tan boy didn't really mind him, some of them were just curious as to why he was mad, a couple of people were probably wondering why he wasn't singing or dancing while walking since that's what he always does. But Carlos was just mad at James for now, he didn't want anyone else to deal with him right now.

His introversion couldn't be kept for long though, a loud, familiar voice breaking his concentration.

"Goddammit, I'm done with this. I'm out." The Latino turned to see Jett storming away from his apart, having shut the door with a loud slam. The brunet turned to face him, covering his face with his palm and letting out a loud sigh. "Great, it's fucking hot out and I found just what I need, _another_ faggot…"

Carlos' face turned bright red at the word, but suddenly the color disappeared. Did he just say…

"Move out of the way, papi. I can't deal with three fags right now." The taller boy tried to push past him, but Carlos blocked the way.

"What do you mean 'three'?" Jett sighed, stepping back for a second.

"Why don't you go ask the two fags in there. Now move." Jett had no problem forcing the tan boy out of his path, quickly walking away down the sidewalk and leaving Carlos a little more confused. Turning to the front door of Jett's apartment, he slowly walked up and was about to knock until he heard muffled talking on the other side. He put his ear up to take a listen, the thin wood of the door allowing him to hear every word.

"Come on Aaron, nothing really bad happened."

"Dak, Jett still lives here, and I don't want to be called that every day."

"But it was just this once. Remember, there's two of us and only one of him. Plus, we have the support of James and Carlos."

"Look, I'm sorry Dak, but—"

Aaron's voice abruptly stopped, all talking in the apartment suddenly ceasing. Confused, Carlos pulled his ear away from the door. He waited a couple minutes, no more sound coming from the opposite side. The tan boy raised his fist, rapping on the door a couple times and hearing shuffling sounds in response. Dak opened the door seconds later.

"Oh, hi Carlos. What're you doing here?" the brunet asked, a smirk forming on his face. "I thought you were having a sleepover with your new friend." The tan boy blushed, but then scowled.

"I was, but James sorta…" Carlos trailed off, raising an eyebrow at Dak. "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

Dak looked down, his eyes widening seemingly in surprise… did he not notice that he wasn't wearing a shirt? Looking back up, the brunet put on a very fake looking smile.

"Uh… well, you see, there's a couple reasons for that." The tan boy's raised eyebrow didn't drop. "First off, as you can probably tell, it's ninety degrees out today." Still no reaction from Carlos. "Uh, secondly, our air conditioning is busted."

"Uh-huh…"

"And then Aaron and I were about to go down to the pool. Yeah, the pool. That's it." The tan boy smirked at him. Those reasons didn't really add up all the way, and Carlos thought he knew why.

"Well, I can tell that it's hot out. And your story about the pool seems to be mostly legit. But you should probably make sure that I can't hear your air conditioning running before you try to make that excuse." Dak's face turned pale for a second, and then he sighed loudly.

"Okay, so you caught that bluff. That doesn't mean that the other two aren't true."

"That it doesn't. But," Carlos paused for a second, choosing his words carefully, "I just ran into Jett, and he was raging about 'the two fags in there', so I think that there's something you aren't telling me." A large hand landed on Dak's shoulder, Carlos seeing Aaron's face from behind the brunet.

"Dak, can we take this conversation inside if we're going to have it." Dak placed his own hand on top of the muscular boy's.

"Sure. Please do come in, Carlos." The two disappeared from the doorway, leaving Carlos on the doorstep. He heard a whispered conversation starting between the two brunets, unable to make out any words but easily able to figure out what they must be talking about. Taking the invitation, the tan boy stepped up into the apartment and closed the door behind him, walking further inside.

The apartment was like his and James'. It had the same sort of layout, with a small kitchen open to a sort of living area. There was an ugly brown sofa sitting near a similarly colored armchair, both pieces facing toward a television that looked about ten years old, same as his and James'. There were doors off to the sides, one likely leading to the bathroom and the other two probably leading to bedrooms. Dak and Aaron were seated on the sofa, Dak having pulled on an undershirt and the two brunets conversing quietly. Carlos sat down in the chair, turning it to face the sofa as the two finished whatever they were talking about.

"So, what do you two have to tell me?" Carlos asked bluntly, an amused expression developing when he saw the awkward way that the two brunets were acting. Aaron shifted uncomfortably at the question and Dak sighed.

"Well, I'm guessing you already figured out that Aaron and I are… well, we're together." Dak attempted to take Aaron's hand with his, but the short-haired boy pulled his hand away as if Dak's was on fire. Carlos simply nodded.

"Okay. And why does Aaron seem to be avoiding you like the plague right now?" Dak sighed again, a frown taking over his face. Aaron could obviously feel Carlos' eyes on him, and he had flinched at the tan boy's question.

"There's no need to be harsh," Dak mumbled, causing Carlos frown.

"Sorry. Now seriously Aaron, why are you so reserved about all this?" Carlos asked. The three sat in silence for a few seconds. "It's okay, I'm not gonna bite your head off or anything, man. We're all friends here." Aaron let out a heavy sigh.

"I just don't think I can deal with it." Dak and Carlos both blinked and looked at each other. Carlos motioned to Aaron with his eyes, an obvious question hanging in the air between the two. Dak shrugged, he was the one to ask.

"Deal with what?"

"What you two do," Aaron gave as a shaky reply, a shiver going down the short-haired brunet's spine. Dak attempted once again to comfort the muscular boy, but he just shrunk away from what was supposed to be a soothing touch. Carlos frowned.

"I don't understand."

"Look, Carlos. I don't think I can put up with walking out of my bedroom every morning to have Jett look at me in disgust like he does to Dak." Carlos' eyes shifted to Dak, the brunet now staring at the ground. There was an empty look to his face right then, as if what Aaron mentioned had drained all emotion from him.

"Does he really—"

"Yes, he does. No matter how much Dak will deny it, every morning Jett will walk out here, give him a look of pure hatred and say something using the word faggot before leaving for his morning workout." Aaron turned to face the boy he was mentioning, finally bringing himself to place his hand over his boyfriend's, making the first contact since they had sat down. "And no matter how much Dak will deny it, he's cried about it. Once Jett is gone he'll either come lie down in bed with me or I'll come over and comfort him at the counter." Removing his hand and placing it over his eyes, the short-haired boy shook his head.

"But even with the support of Dak, and you, and James, and whoever you guys are seeing now, I don't think I'm strong enough to have Jett treat me the same way. I can help Dak through that, but I'm just not that solid."

Nobody spoke for a short time. Carlos was attempting to absorb what he had heard, watching as Dak slowly sat up from his dazed state and rubbed his hand in a circle over the other boy's back. The Latino drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

"I still don't quite understand why you care so much what Jett thinks, Aaron."

"Well Jett's the first friend I made in college, I can't lose that over—"

"I think that's a little silly, don't you?" Carlos interrupted. "Doesn't Dak mean a little more than what Jett thinks of you two?" Aaron looked Dak in the eyes, seeing them shining a bit with unreleased tears. "Don't you think that you should probably…" Carlos trailed off when he saw Aaron raise his hand and use it to cup Dak's cheek.

"You _do_ mean a lot to me, babe," he heard Aaron whisper, a tear running down the other brunet's face as he heard his boyfriend say that. He wiped it away. "I mean, a whole lot."

"And?"

"…and I get what Carlos is saying. You mean more to me than what Jett thinks."

"I think I hear a 'but' at the end of that," Dak returned, causing Aaron to take a deep breath and release a quiet sigh.

"Just give me a bit. To get comfortable before we start anything really PDA. Or anything when Jett is home. That's all I ask." A sad smile took to Aaron's features as he pulled Dak in for a hug, the short-haired boy delivering a small kiss to his boyfriend's cheek. Carlos mimicked the smile, waiting for the two to separate before walking over to hug each of them.

Things were going to turn out fine.

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><p>Twenty minutes later, Carlos was standing on the doorstep of the brunets' apartment, Dak giving a few words of gratitude before closing the door. Carlos smiled, starting to walk away when the door opened again, Dak yelling his name. The tan boy turned back, smile wide on his face.<p>

"Yes Dak?"

"Why were you over here in the first place?" The smile dropped, a scowl taking its place. Dak stared analytically for a second before smirking and crossing his arms over his chest.

"James?" Carlos let out an exasperated sigh.

"Yes."

"Was he being stupid?"

"Yes." Dak raised an eyebrow.

"Was he being _really _stupid? As in different from normal James stupid?"

"Yes." The brunet laughed, turning to go back into the apartment. He looked over his shoulder just before closing the door.

"Just do what you always do when James does something really stupid." Carlos stared blankly at him.

"And what would that be?"

"Wait a little while and the guilt will eventually eat away at him until he apologizes." The Latino laughed.

"Will do."

As soon as Carlos was out of view, Dak turned back into the apartment, closing the door behind him and seeing Aaron waiting on the couch with a smirk on his face. Dak imitated the look, slipping the undershirt back off his body and stalking back over to his boyfriend. Sitting down on his lap, Dak leaned forward and whispered in the other boy's ear.

"Now, where were we?"

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><p>James was already starting to feel a little guilty. Or a lot guilty. He couldn't really tell the difference. He should have known what day it was. But that's the problem with having time off of school, he loses track of what day it is.<p>

Even if his phone tells him.

The pretty boy walked around his apartment somewhat aimlessly, trying to think of ways to apologize to his roommate. Most of his solutions so far had revolved around food. Would a trip to the cookie store work? Or maybe going for pizza tonight would work. Or maybe…

A series of beeps from his phone slowed James' thought process. Picking the device up, he slowly walked over to the couch.

Maybe a movie night full of Disney and lots of popcorn… and corndogs…

The last few texts were from Kendall, the blond curious as to today's situation with the roommate thing.

_Kendall- so how's it going?_

_Me- He's not back yet_

_Kendall- really? it's been almost three hours since I dropped him off._

_Me- I know_

_Kendall- …and you're not worried?_

James sighed. Of course he wasn't worried about where the Latino was. Just worried about how to make it up to him. The brunet typed in a response.

"_When you get Logan mad, how do you make it up to him?" _The response was almost immediate.

"_food and/or his favorite movie." _James smirked. This is why he and the blond were so compatible. They were the same person in two different bodies. With different tastes in music. And different hair care regimens.

"_Thanks. Tell Logan I'm sorry for cutting their time a little short."_ Well, there was a plan. Looks like it was time to go find a movie store with _Tangled _and _UP._

Things were going to turn out fine.

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><p>AN: I'm thinking of completely removing ending author's notes. Especially because I have little to say in this one other than that I'm thinking about taking them out and that I have no idea when I'll be updating again since school starts soon. Oh, and yay for supporting character development.

Okay, maybe I do have stuff to say and ending notes aren't just a way to make my chapters look longer than they are. I know you all were expecting more story about Carlos and Logan, and/or James and Kendall, but for one thing I had this planned to happen already and for another I had to build the beginnings of James' apology. Plus there's sort of a big set of events happening soon, and hopefully my mostly-successful attempt at writing sex will help me to do it again... so yeah.

I hope you enjoyed, please do review, and have a wonderful [insert length of time here].


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